Yes Sir
by Tanta Green
Summary: A story of Wedge and Biggs, their time in the army, and their time afterwards when they... attempt to become rockstars? Yaoi.
1. Prologue

**AN**: This story was created for the purposes of National Novel Writing Month, so expect it to be long; novel-length in fact. Most of the story is already written. I only need to edit it now, so the first few chapters should be up pretty quickly.

I also feel that this story is original enough that if you haven't played Final Fantasy 8 then you shouldn't have any problem following this story. Any spoilers that are in this story are so obscure that it shouldn't really make any difference.

Also, just a few warnings that the rating of this story is to go up as soon as I post the next chapter to PG-13 and the story might eventually make it to R. It will be rated for language, violence and eventually yaoi (i.e. two men in romantic situations.) If you don't like any of the above then I suggest you stop reading. Flames are fine as long as they're not because of the content I just warned you about.

**Disclaimer**: Unfortunately I don't own Wedge and Biggs, or any other Final Fantasy 8 character that appears in this story, even though 99 of their characterisation was done by me. Honestly; if I had run with only what was shown in the game then you'd have a couple of cardboard cut-outs for main characters. What was I saying? Oh yes. Wedge, Biggs and some of the other characters in this story belong to Squaresoft. I'm not making any money out of them, so if you sue me you'll get nothing.

Okay? Have we covered everything? We have? Good. Let the story begin then.

"By the accident of fortune a man may rule the world for a time,  
but by virtue of love he may rule the world forever."

**Lao-Tsze**

It wasn't as though the silence around the Lomani family dinner table was awkward. Rather, it was the silence of a close-knit extended family right after the meal had finished; a time when aunts, uncles and cousins alike were running out of things to say; but to Wedge, it felt awkward.

The weather had been discussed in length, as had politics, especially politics that involved Galbadia, and whether or not Galbadia was or should be attempting to expand its borders. (Being a family that had lived in the small city state of Dollet for the past three generations the possibility that their beloved home would be overrun by a foreign power was always bound to be a hot topic.)

Being one of the youngest members of his extended family, Wedge chose to sit at one end of the table, concentrating on pushing the last few mouthfuls of ice-cream around his nearly empty dessert bowl. Wedge had barely said a word the entire night, and had no intention of starting now. He was dreading speaking as it was; dreading the moment when someone realised that Wedge had been studying at Galbadia Garden long enough for him to have taken the glorified SeeD test. Sooner or later someone would want to ask how well he had done, and then he would tell them that he scored the highest out of the three students that had passed, and then the random relation that had asked him in the first place would congratulate him quickly followed by the rest of his extended family.

And then he would tell them all what they would consider to be _very bad news_, disrupting what was currently a perfect picture of a family get together.

It hadn't been an easy decision to make, especially since he had known that his entire family would disapprove, but studying at Galbadia Garden had given him a unique perspective of the world; one that his family could never gain while they stayed inside the safety of the borders of Dollet.

The conversation soon started again, jumping backwards and forewords across the table, much like the ice-cream in Wedge's bowl.

Then, as if reading from a prompt card, Wedge's Aunt Pipper spoke.

"So, Wedge, how did your SeeD test go?"

If he hadn't been so tense with dread at the prospect of the upcoming conversation, Wedge would have laughed. As it was, he shrugged.

"Yeah," he said noncommittally. "I did really well."

"Wow!" Aunt Pipper exclaimed, followed, as Wedge had expected, by a chorus of congratulations.

"Well," Pipper's husband Tai exclaimed. "A SeeD in the family. Now that is something to be proud of."

"Aren't you a little worried that he might get hurt?" Aunt Lessie, Wedge's father's sister asked Wedge's mother, completely ignoring the nineteen year old.

"I'm just glad that he's finally given up that ridiculous rock music he was hoping to get a career in a couple of years back," Wedge's father answered for his wife.

Wedge's older sister Tina stared at him from the other side of the table, tossing him a sympathetic raised eyebrow while none of their older relatives were watching.

"Oh," Wedge's mother sounded exasperated as she carelessly flung her hand up, and to Wedge's knowledgeable ears, completely fake. "I'm glad we've gotten rid of that rubbish! It just goes to show what a decent education can do for you."

"My, my, my," someone commented. Wedge wasn't game to look up from his bowl to discover exactly which of his relative's it was, but it sounded a lot like his uncle Milleph. "So you're a trained mercenary now, eh Wedge?"

"Actually," Wedge said, his voice coming out of his mouth so quietly that it couldn't even be called a squeak. He had been dreading this moment the whole night.

Oh well, best to get it over and done with, he told himself, not really believing it.

"I was thinking of joining the Galbadian military."

Every single clink of glass and cutlery, every twitter of congratulations and gossip stopped in an instant.

"Well," Wedge began in attempt to explain his decision, still not willing to look up from his bowl. "With my SeeD rank I could probably make General or Major within a couple of months, and the Galbadians are doing some rather good things for the local populations. I mean, they could probably turn a backwards city like Dollet into a thriving centre of business."

Wedge finally looked up from his bowl to find that every face at the table had turned to stare at him; some with undisguised amusement, others with a touch of hatred, but most bore a look of dumb shock.

"So," Wedge tried unsuccessfully to smile as he spoke. "What do you think?"

Approximately twenty-five seconds later, when Wedge's parents had gotten over the initial shock, Wedge Lomani was promptly disowned.


	2. Chapter One

AN: Well, it seems I already have a larger readership than I had expected for this story. Thank you all. Each and every one of your comments is appreciated.

Just a warning that the rating has been brought up because this chapter contains sexual references, bad language and violence. If you don't like it, then I suggest you don't read it.

It seems that some of you guys seem a little hesitant about the idea of Wedge and Biggs as a couple. See how you go with the more three dimensional versions of them, and if the idea still squicks you then the yaoi can be cut out. It won't make that much of a difference.

Just one last thing. I know you're all waiting for the beginning of the story, but this must be said. I'm well aware that Biggs might seem totally OC in this chapter, but there is still a lot of development planed for his character before he is the Biggs we all know and love from the game. Give him time.

And finally, with no further blabbing, here is the first true chapter of Yes Sir.

-(-0-)-

"Every exit is an entry somewhere else."

**Tom Stoppard**

Wedge shifted nervously from one foot to the other, occasionally glancing over at the other new recruits. To the right of him stood a short, scrawny man that hadn't given the rest of the group any name but "Rat". Right now Rat was fiddling nervously beneath his uniform; attempting to look as though he was standing at attention, and to some extent succeeding. Rat had already earned Wedge's partial respect through an ability to pack more curses into a single sentence than Wedge would have thought possible.

Beside Rat stood the new recruit the others had come to know as Crane. Crane's real name was Haphthetsuzuk. Wedge thought he'd stick to Crane, and not only to avoid the damage he would do to his mouth and vocal chords if he attempted pronouncing the man's real name. The truth of the matter was that Crane suited him more than his real name did, if you took Crane to mean the machine and not the bird. Unless you imagined the rest of the new recruits were another sort of bird like say, a sparrow. The man stood at least a foot higher than the rest of them, and probably quite a few inches wider in the shoulders as well. When he stood in the man's shadow Wedge felt something he had never felt before. He felt short.

To the left of Wedge were to his surprise, two new recruits that were younger than him. As far as Wedge could tell from the hushed late night conversation the new recruits had engaged in their cabin the night before, these two men were completely normal. Both Knick and Knack, as Rat had taken to calling them before Wedge had a chance to join the conversation, had light brown hair and blue eyes, stood at around five foot eight, and apart from their refusal to leave each other's side for even a moment, seemed so average that it was almost scary. Neither of them had ever done anything at all remarkable. The both of them were nice without being likeable, with a little bit of work Wedge had established that even their real names; Nicholas and Nathan; were unremarkable. The only thing about Knick and Knack that truly surprised Wedge was the discovery that, despite how much they looked like each other, Knick and Knack were not related in any way apart from the strong bond of friendship that neither of them would explain.

Wedge had stayed mostly silent while the other four recruits had chatted in their small barracks the night before. There didn't seem to be much he could contribute. He couldn't say that he particularly liked any of the other new recruits, and he certainly didn't find any shared experiences or kindred spirits amongst them. He couldn't talk about his family, and the only name he could give them was Wedge. There were a couple of raised eyebrows at the lack of a last name, but no-one said anything. He would remain just plain Wedge.

Together the five new recruits were scheduled to endure the most rigorous training the Galbadian military could dish out. In two months the five of them were to be members of the Galbadian army, fighting out in the field from the minute they graduated.

And they were to be taught by a senior officer with years experience in the field; a senior officer who was to teach them how to be the best soldiers they could possibly be; a senior officer who was now over half an hour late.

Wedge glanced to his right again and caught Crane's eye. The visors on the Galbadian soldiers' uniforms were so dark that the only part of a soldier's face that could be seen from more than a foot away was his mouth, but the devilish grin Crane gave Wedge was enough for Wedge to realise that the tall man was thinking along the same line as he was.

"Where the fuck is this guy?" Rat voiced opinion of the entire squadron. It shouldn't have been funny. It really shouldn't have, but Rat's voice dripped with the twangy accent of the inhabitants of the Galbadian plains, and when you are at your very lowest, sometimes even the smallest thing, like an expletive spoken by a man with an accent two sizes too big for him, can bring some much needed laughter to an otherwise melancholy heart.

Wedge found that the corners of his mouth wanted to curve upwards. His voice box wanted to laugh, even though that there wasn't really anything that he should have found funny about the situation. His mouth was determined though, and soon he was clutching his sides in an attempt to stop the laughter that was pouring out of his mouth.

It made no sense to be laughing, Wedge told himself. There was absolutely nothing funny about the fact that he was standing in a training centre in the middle of the Galbadian Plains, about to train so he could be part of a military organisation that was turning out to be nothing like he expected, with a group of people who were, now that his family had disowned him and he had left his friends at Garden behind, the closest thing he had to family or friends, waiting for a senior officer that was supposed to be setting them a good example. Nothing funny at all about the situation.

_Great_, Wedge thought as tears began to run down either side of his face. _My first day has barely started and I'm already in hysterics._

He risked glancing up at the other new recruits, painfully aware that they were all staring at him. Rat looked away hurriedly, fiddling with his gloves as though he was wrestling with some sort of inner problem.

Maybe there was some part of Rat that would have extended his hand to Wedge, some part of him that would have asked Wedge whether he was feeling all right, but it seemed as though it had been buried beneath too many years of hardship to emerge right at that instant. Maybe if there had been a millisecond more of silence, Knick and Knack would have helped him up, but Wedge would never know, for right at that instant, the officer they had been waiting for emerged from behind one of the nearby buildings, and Wedge quickly picked himself off the ground.

The man wore the full red uniform that the Galbadian army gave to some of its senior officers. This uniform was much bulkier than the simple blue outfits that the new recruits wore and it bore several weapons that put the new recruits' swords to shame, including an attachment that turned the officer's left arm into an enormous machine gun.

"Don't tell me this is him," either Knick or Knack whispered, as the new recruits watched the officer attempt to pull on one of his boots and run towards them at the same time.

"Damn!" the officer cursed as his best efforts merely resulted in a close encounter with the floor.

"Err… hello there!" the officer greeted the new recruits as he proceeded to strap his boot on to the rest of his uniform. He picked himself off the ground, the heavy armour he was wearing necessitating that this be a slow and careful process.

"Sorry I'm late," the newcomer said with more energy than Wedge would have expected. "There was an urgent need for my talents at the front."

_Talents,_ Wedge wondered. _Right._

The new recruits looked uneasily at one another, none of them willing to say anything. There was nothing that could be said in a situation like this, and nothing to do except smile and nod, which all five of the new recruits chose as the correct action simultaneously.

"You are the new recruits, aren't you?" the officer asked as he brushed himself off, attempting to look dignified despite the accident all the new recruits had obviously seen.

"Yes sir," Wedge said, just a little hesitantly, throwing in a salute at the end because his SeeD training told him that he should. Just because their commanding officer had given a bad first impression there was no reason for him to return the favour.

"At ease soldier," the officer said, chuckling softly. "You'll have plenty of time for that later. For now just your names will do. You soldier; what's your name?"

Through some sort of unlikely and highly comedic chance, the officer looked straight at Crane.

"Haphthetsuzuk Shimatara, sir!" Crane snapped a salute.

"Uh…" the officer looked as confronted by the new recruit's lengthy name as Wedge had felt. "You got a nickname?" the officer asked.

"Well, the other boys have been calling me Crane, sir!"

"Welcome to the Galbadian Military Private Crane. Now, what crazy deluded notion made you want to join up?"

Crane seemed as taken aback by the officer's question as the officer had been by Crane's full name.

"I mean it!" the officer ranted. "You're all crazy joining up for this! Now, I've never taught a group of new recruits before, but I can definitely tell you this much from personal experience. If you want to get out then **now** is the time to do it. It isn't as pretty as the posters would have you believe."

"You!" the officer said, suddenly pointing at Rat. "I bet you joined up because you wanted to 'do your bit' to protect Galbadia, right? You thought you could get out there on the battlefield and 'make a difference' didn't you?"

"Actually," Rat replied without skipping a beat. "I'm in it for the money." Rat added a hearty "SIR!" on the end of his answer when it became apparent that the officer was too surprised by the Private Rat's answer to say anything. Wedge was just surprised that the new recruit had managed to get through an entire sentence without cursing.

"Well, err… That didn't go exactly as I thought it would," the officer scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "but I can tell you right now that there isn't much money to be had either, unless you find yourself in President Deling's private guard. Sure, the figures on most of the paycheques look all right, but actually finding yourself in possession of one of those paycheques is a rare occurrence, and one that you'll have to work extremely hard for."

Wedge felt his confidence in the Galbadian military slipping away at an incredibly fast speed.

"Okay," the officer moved on before Rat could come up with a suitable retort. "You," he said, pointing to one of the Knick Knack duo. "What's your name? And I don't mean Haphtezuthingymebob like the other guy. Just give me something short enough for the rest of us to remember."

"I'm Knick," Nicholas answered. "And this is Knack."

The officer froze as he took in the similarity between the two of them.

"And my name's Rat!" Rat interrupted, apparently put out that the officer hadn't yet asked for his name.

"What should we call you, sir?" Wedge asked when he sensed that the conversation had come to a complete halt and wasn't going to move anywhere without further prompting.

"You should call me Major Biggs. It's no good asking for another name, because there isn't one. Biggs is my first name and the only one I have. Although I'm quite happy conversing with you lot on a first name basis, the rest of the army won't be. When you address any other superior officer I will expect a sir, is that understood?"

"Yes sir," the new recruits answered, all of them squirming nervously under Major Biggs' gaze. It seemed that the Major wasn't a complete joke after all.

"You," Biggs said, staring straight at Wedge. "I don't have your name yet."

"Its Wedge sir," Wedge answered, feeling odd by leaving Lomani off the end. "Just Wedge."

There was a moment of silence, in which two pairs of eyes seemed to connect, despite the dark layers of tinted and reinforced glass between them. Time stands still for a moment, as the two of them recognise something in the other; some sort of similarity that is more than just mere circumstance. For a moment there is a realisation that the person standing in front of them, despite all appearances, feels like a kindred spirit, or perhaps something more, and then the moment finishes, leaving the two of them standing back in the middle of the training centre. The air itself seems to sigh, and the feeling never existed.

"Well, Just Wedge," Major Biggs continued, twitching slightly as though to shake off a passing feeling. "You, along with the other four of you, are mine for the next two months. As you can guess, I've been given you to train."

Major Biggs began to stalk up and down the line of new recruits, looking at each one of them in turn. Wedge couldn't help but notice that a smile began to twitch at the sides of Biggs mouth when the Major passed him. He had a feeling a smile was trying to break out on his face as well.

"Now, nothing I can do will really prepare you for your first taste of battle," Biggs continued as he stalked, "or the realisation that you've signed up to the most horrible military organisation on the planet, so all I can do is try my hardest to turn you into the sort of soldiers that will survive for as long as possible. While I'm at it, I suppose I should welcome you to the Galbadian military. I should welcome you to hell."

-(-0-)-

Sunset found Wedge leaning against one of the wooden barracks building, a small trickle of sweat making its way down his forehead. His lungs moved in and out in a pace that made Wedge feel more wonderful than drinking or having fun never could. He felt alive.

The other recruits trudged back to camp a few minutes behind Wedge to find the ex-SeeD in the process of a few cool-down stretches. Biggs's workout had more than made up for the missed half-hour in Wedge's opinion, but it seemed that his comrades didn't share Wedge's love of the obstacle course they had just run. It had indeed been a tough workout, but which Wedge was infinitely grateful for.

The other new recruits collapsed around Wedge; Knick and Knack beside each other on the floor; Crane somehow managing to do some sort of collapse while still standing. The tall man's shoulders hunched considerably, his head fell forwards and for a moment he seemed to be not so much taller than the rest of them. Rat leaned against the wall just beside Wedge, and turned to give Wedge a look that said that Rat was rather astounded.

"Damn it man. Aren't you completely fucked like the rest of us?" Rat panted.

"Not really," Wedge admitted. It seemed that his SeeD training had done him more good than he had given it credit for.

"Come on soldiers!" a merry and not at all exhausted voice soon joined them.

"Fuck no," Rat moaned besides Wedge. "As if having to put up with that dip-shit while we were training wasn't enough, it looks like we're going to have to fucking well put up with him afterwards as well."

"You're not all tired after today, are you?" Biggs asked them, the grin on his face growing as the Major allowed his more sadistic tendencies to shine through. "Because the day I've got planned for you tomorrow is going to be a lot tougher than today was. Private Wedge! Why are you grinning like that? Haven't had enough of running the obstacle course, huh?"

"No sir!" Wedge said, unable to stop the smile that began to form on his own face.

"Not tired at all are you?" Biggs pressed.

"Not really sir!"

"Oh," Biggs faltered a little. Wedge supposed that the whole situation would have been even funnier if Biggs himself hadn't been running the obstacle course as well, but he had, staying just one step ahead of Wedge the whole way.

"Well," Biggs rubbed the back of his neck, a sign Wedge had already picked up as a sign that the Major was slightly embarrassed. "Good work Private Wedge!" Biggs turned to face the more exhausted new recruits. "Well, dinner is in the mess hall at seven. Breakfast is at seven in the morning. I'll see the lot of you back here at eight, ready for another day of training."

Wedge turned to leave, but found he was quickly stopped by a hand pulling at the back of his uniform. He turned around to find that he was standing face to face with Major Biggs.

"What the hell was that?" Biggs hissed at him. "Were you really unfazed by all that training?"

"Um… yes?" Wedge hazarded. Whatever happened next, Wedge had the feeling that it was going to be extremely awkward for the both of them.

"Then what the hell are you doing here!" Biggs attempted to sound angry but keep his voice down so that the other new recruits wouldn't hear him. The result was a sort of raspy hissing noise that made the Major sound as though he had a sore throat. "You should be training to be a SeeD or something, not joining the Galbadian army!"

"Actually, um, sir," Wedge quaked. "I've already trained to be a SeeD, but I wanted to join the army, because, you know, SeeDs are just mercenaries, fighting for whoever pays them, and Galbadians are…"

"Let me guess," Biggs interrupted him, "a group of wonderful and brave men who fight for the peace of Galbadia and her sister countries and protect all the women and children at home?"

"Um, something like that, although I think I might have put it a little more poetically."

"Wedge my boy; you are a victim of propaganda. The truth is the Galbadian military are a group of fat officers sitting around on their arses in their nice cosy warm office taking advantage of the stupidity of a lot of basically all right young men like you and me. It's interesting to know that you went to Garden though. Which one was it? Galbadia?"

"Yes sir," Wedge answered.

"Galbadia Garden; damn I've missed that big hunk of concrete."

"You went to Galbadia Garden too sir!?"

"That I did, Private Wedge. Looks like the two of us have got a bit more in common than either of us would have guessed."

There was that silence again; that strange feeling that made Wedge feel both lost and perfectly at home at the same time. For a moment Wedge felt that he liked Major Biggs, and it wasn't a feeling he was perfectly comfortable with at the moment.

"Then," Wedge broke the silence, despite his instincts insistence that saying what he was about to say could get him into trouble, "why did **you** join up for the Galbadian army?" If there was one thing Galbadia Garden had taught him, it was that, most of the time, figures of authority didn't like to be shown up by those that they were supposedly superior to.

"Ahaha…" Biggs looked incredibly sheepish for a while. "Actually… Wedge, stop looking at me like that. I know what you're thinking and no, I wasn't stupid enough to fall for the propaganda, unlike some people. I actually have a completely valid reason."

Wedge didn't need to say anything to communicate his doubt to his commanding officer. It seemed that despite the tinted glass covering most of his face, the smile on his face said it all.

"Ijoinedupbecausemyfatherdidn'twantmeto."

Wedge was suddenly amazed at Major Biggs's apparent ability to speak without having to pause in between words.

"What was that sir?" Wedge grinned.

"You understood what I said," Biggs growled, whacking Wedge on the back of the head. "And if you didn't also go to Galbadia Garden then I would have severely reprimanded you for that."

Biggs continued explaining despite the fact that Wedge hadn't asked him to.

"My father and I never got along very well. He really, really wanted me to become a SeeD; said he would have become a SeeD if he had been young enough when Garden was founded. He sent me to Garden to learn all I could when I was only twelve. I suppose I could have been an excellent student if I had wanted to, but there was too much fun to be had for that, you know? When it came time to graduate, I just thought of what my father would have wanted me **not** to do, and then did it; teenage rebellion and all that. I joined the Galbadian army because I knew my father hated it. That's also the reason why Biggs is the only name I have any more."

"You were disowned?" Wedge asked sympathetically, his own throat tightening at the thought.

"No actually," Biggs grinned. "I didn't want to have my father's name attached to me for the rest of my life."

"Oh," Wedge deflated visibly at the news.

"Oh dear," Biggs said as he noticed Wedge's suddenly downcast mood. "You weren't disowned yourself were you?"

Wedge attempted to grin. "Ah, you'll notice that there's no last name on my details form."

"Don't worry about it!" Biggs laughed, throwing an arm around Wedge's shoulders, "We'll be Wedge and Biggs, the nameless duo from Galbadia!"

"Actually, I'm from Dollet."

"You're from Dollet and you joined the Galbadian army? No wonder your parents disowned you."

"Hey!"

-(-0-)-

Wedge couldn't help but grin eagerly when he jumped out of bed each morning and saw the other new recruits groan at the prospect of spending another day training with Major Biggs. The training sessions were no picnic, admittedly, and Wedge found himself dreading the day when their training finished and they became part of the proper military; Biggs's horror stories were enough to make even the staunchest Galbadia supporter quake in their boots; but for now Wedge would enjoy himself as much as was possible.

Before long Biggs was teaching them all how to use their weapons, and while the Major's swordplay techniques and instructions were nothing at all like the ones Wedge had learned at Galbadia Garden, he picked them up quickly enough, unlike some of the other new recruits. Knick and Knack did all right, and maybe Rat would prove to be talented enough if he found it in himself to stop whining and cursing and actually apply himself. Crane however, was hopeless, but Biggs and the other recruits just encouraged him, telling him that he'd probably end up with an officer's weapon suit like Major Biggs's. Either that or the military could just equip him with a club. Wedge knew he'd certainly run away if he saw Crane approaching with a club in hand.

As for the rest of the training…

Wedge was obviously the leader when it came to obstacles and speed. He and Biggs would remain ahead of the other new recruits in the courses, racing each other to see who would reach the end first. All of the new recruits were better at martial arts and hand to hand combat than their instructor, although this wasn't saying much. Major Biggs admitted to them that hand to hand wasn't his forte, and after the first flop of a lesson, Biggs handed them over to another instructor for training in this area. The group seemed to all excel when using magic, although Wedge found this to be the one area in which he fell behind. Galbadia Garden hadn't taught the students much in this field, but Biggs was patient with him, telling him that as long as he kept up his strengths in the other areas that he would have no problems in the field.

Days passed quicker than Wedge would have thought, and before long the five of them had been in training for a month. It was then that Biggs received a summons. It seemed that whatever his so-called talents were, they were needed.

-(-0-)-

The five new recruits trudged along behind Biggs underneath the scorching hot Galbadian desert sun.

"This is shit," Rat cursed.

"What did I tell you about that language soldier?" Biggs's voice came from the front of the line.

"This is shit, sir!" Rat responded, earning a grin from the rest of the soldiers.

"That's right soldier!" Biggs laughed. "It is."

"Sir," Knack asked timidly. It had taken time, but Wedge was beginning to be able to tell the two of them apart even when in uniform. "I know they need your help, but why are we coming along?"

"It will give you some good experience in the field," Biggs replied. "You can cover me while I do my work. Don't worry; it will be the easiest mission you'll ever be a part of. The worst you'll probably have to do is shoot a couple of rogue monsters."

"Sir," Wedge joined the conversation. "When we first joined you said that you were late because they needed your services at the front. What exactly is it that you do? If you don't mind me asking; that is."

If Wedge had turned around at that moment he would have seen Rat mouthing 'kiss-arse' to Crane.

"I am the only member of the In-Combat Mechanics Crew!" Biggs answered, his voice making him sound a lot more excited about the position than his body language would have had the new recruits believe.

Both Crane and Rat snorted.

"Well, it's not exactly General Barron's Elite Squadron," Biggs admitted. "But it's an important role, and it pays a lot better than many other positions."

"Oh, come on!" Biggs protested as Rat began to laugh. "It's a damn sight further than you lot will probably get. Stop that laughter right now Private or you'll loose your rations for the next week."

Rat's sniggering immediately stopped.

"So," Wedge began to talk to Major Biggs once the laughter had died down. "What's the mission?"

"The research and development team have been working on a new machine that is supposed to be more powerful than ten men during combat," Biggs answered, "and it only takes two people to control it. Apparently they've taken it on a test run and it's shorted out right in the middle of the desert. Of course, the boffins back in research can't step outside the lab and get dirty. They might break a nail. No, it's up to bloody In-Combat Mechanics, of which I happen to be the only member, to stomp out here and fix the blasted thing."

Wedge jogged a little and caught up with their commanding officer.

"To be honest Wedge," Biggs whispered conspiratorially to the new recruit, "I mainly brought the lot of you out here for company. It's been a long walk and I would have gone mad without someone to talk to."

"Don't worry," Wedge laughed. "I'm sure they'll all think its good experience." From the melancholic silence that came from the other members of the squadron, it seemed that Wedge might have been a little far from the truth. Wedge quickly decided that saying anything; anything at all, would have been better than that silence. "It must get lonely being the only member of the squadron."

"Yeah," Biggs admitted; a strange half-smile forming on his face. "But I can see why no-one else wants to join. Most of the time there's nothing to do and I just end up helping out with all of the odd jobs, and when there is work, it's as shitty as this is. It's a pretty boring job really."

Eventually, they reached a small pass in the rocky cliffs, where a couple of soldiers were waiting, one of them wearing one of the blue uniforms, the other the red.

"Okay soldiers," Biggs said, suddenly straightening his posture. "We need to go into formal mode now. If the others see how slack I'm letting you be, they'll have my hide. Wedge, drop back with the others."

"Yes Sir," Wedge said, slipping back to walk beside Rat.

They approached the other two soldiers silently, and when they reached them, the five new recruits and the Major snapped a perfectly synchronised salute. The group had perfected what Biggs had dubbed 'formal mode' fairly quickly, despite the fact that they never used it while in camp. Anyone that saw them now would assume that they were training under the strictest and most serious officer in the military. Anyone would be wrong.

"Reporting for the repair job as was requested, sir!" Major Biggs barked.

"Major Biggs?" the officer in the red uniform said, looking up from the clipboard he was inspecting as though he had just realised the group were there. Wedge doubted this was the case. The desert was so empty that you could see anything coming from a mile away.

"It's so good to see, you Major Biggs, as it always is." There was something about the officer's grin that made Wedge think that the facial gesture was just as poisonous and false as Wedge suspected the man's words were.

"No, no, no," Biggs said, gritting his teeth. "The pleasure is always mine, Colonel Everett."

There was something between these two. Wedge could tell. Behind the niceties and titles these two officers hated each other. The question was; why?

-(-0-)-

Biggs kept the smile on his face. Inside, he was writhing.

_Of course it had to be him_. _He's the only pompous windbag in Research conceited enough to take an unfinished model this far out on an experimental run. This mission will be such a pain in the arse if he's going to look over my shoulder the whole time, and knowing Colonel Everett, the bastard will._

"As you know," Colonel Everett continued, keeping the fake smile on his face. "We've been testing the latest model of the BGH and one of the generators seems to have blown. I would have fixed it myself, but I was sure you would be itching to get back out in the field and away from the new recruits. It appears I was wrong."

"I thought the field experience would be good for them, sir!" Biggs answered.

"No doubt you did," Everett said, the smile slipping from his face. "I'm sure they'll learn a lot with your valuable expertise as guidance."

_Smug sarcastic bastard,_ Biggs cursed inside. Outside however, he forced himself to let out a fake laugh. _I am going to kill you one day. Just wait, one of these days we'll be left alone together and then… bang! No more mister smart arse!_

"I'm sure you'll want to look over all of the specifics, Major Biggs," Everett handed Biggs the clipboard he was holding.

_What is it that you have against me? Does your wife scream my name when you fuck or something?_

Biggs smiled and nodded, trying not to think about how big this job was beginning to look.

"I've taken the liberty of getting out some of the tools I thought you would like to use," Everett said, the fake smile finding its way back onto his face.

"Thankyou sir," Biggs answered, snapping another salute.

_I hate you._

-(-0-)-

Meanwhile, Wedge was dealing with his own problems. The new recruits had decided that since the Major and Colonel were so busy with their own verbal war, now would be a perfect time for them to start their own conversation. Knick and Knack had already been whispering for a while when Rat sidled up to Wedge and attempted to start a conversation.

"So Wedge," he said, leaning over to the other man, "you and Major Biggs seem to be getting pretty cosy, hey." One thing Wedge had to admit; training under Major Biggs had certainly taken the edge off Rat's cursing.

"Huh?" Wedge knew his answer wasn't really conclusive of anything, and he liked it that way. He wasn't too interested in talking with Rat right now, or for that matter, ever. Their minds never seemed to work on the same level, and it seemed that no matter what Wedge said, Rat had to take the opposing viewpoint. Wedge ignored the other new recruit and strained his neck, trying to get a better look at the conversation between Biggs and Everett.

"So, what did you bribe him with, money or sex?"

"What?!" This time Rat got Wedge's attention. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Come on; stop shitting with me man. The Major gives you twice as much attention as the rest of us. You plannin' on leaving us all behind and fucking your way to the top?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, and neither, I think, do you."

"Come on then, what the fuck have you been whispering to him about?" Rat hissed, lapsing into his old habit of adding an expletive or two to every sentence. "You're always getting congratulations from him like you're the fucking teacher's pet. Don't tell me it's just because you're trying your hardest or some shit like that. What secret are you keeping from us man?"

"There is no secret!" Wedge hissed back as quietly as possible, trying not to draw the officers' attention towards them.

"Then why the fuck have you two been getting so friendly?!" Rat said, just a little too loudly.

Biggs spun around. "Quiet in the ranks!" he chastised them. "One more word and I'll have next month's paycheque taken away from whoever is involved."

Wedge knew that it was an empty threat, but still stayed silent.

"I suppose you would all like to see the job now?" Everett asked, including the new recruits in the conversation.

"Yes sir!" Crane answered for the five of them.

Everett gave the soldier in blue a command that none of them could catch, before turning back to the five of them.

"Follow me!" Everett told them.

-(-0-)-

When the five of them saw the latest model of the BGH, their eyes widened and their mouths dropped open. So far, the only machines the Galbadian army had invented for combat were the height of a tall soldier at maximum, and usually retained a basically humanoid structure to them. This however, was unlike anything any of them, including Biggs, had ever seen before.

The BGH lay close beside the cliff face, leaning slightly to one side because of the broken generator. The machine seemed to have six generators in all, which branched out from its body like six large spider-like legs. The generators also seemed to double as weapons, and included massive cannons, electrical devices and machine guns. It wasn't this that made the hunk of metal impressive though. It was the machine's size. It stood almost twice as high as any of them including Crane, completely dwarfed Rat, and looked to be over ten metres long.

"Look at the size of that thing!" Wedge gasped, gazing in awe at the powerful machine.

Everett stood with his arms folded, looking awfully proud at the fact that his invention could inspire so much bewilderment.

"We're also testing another model," he told them. "One that looks more like a crab. They work in basically the same way, but they do have their individual strengths and weaknesses. The crab is a fair bit smaller, far more agile and more beautiful in my opinion, but it doesn't have the fire power or strength that this one does. The only real problem with this machine is that we can't get the generators to work properly. At the slightest amount of resistant force the damn things overheat or break."

_If you haven't got it working properly yet then why are you testing it?_ Biggs and Wedge happened to think at the same time.

Biggs approached the machine, under the close scrutiny of Colonel Everett.

"Recruits!" Biggs barked, making the five of them jump. "The five of you are to stand guard while I am working and protect both me and the machine if any monsters attack."

"Yes sir!" the five of them answered smartly.

Biggs shuffled closer to the machine, hauling the tools Everett had given him. Biggs had to restrain himself from snapping at Everett. The man's stare was completely unnerving at times like this. It was hard to trace the exact moment Biggs and Everett had begun to dislike one another; probably it was a couple of minutes after they had met one another, and Biggs doubted there would ever be a time in which they put their many differences and disagreements aside and began to treat each other like human beings.

Colonel Everett was more like a viper than a human anyway, Biggs reflected. Or possibly an eagle because of the way he was staring; no, that was being too kind; a vulture.

Biggs's set to work, trying to ignore the unnerving feeling of Colonel Everett's eyes burning into his back. The Major was soon ready to scream as he realised that Colonel Everett had every intention of looking over his shoulder as he worked and chastising every tiny mistake that he made until Biggs had either snapped or completed the mission.

"Are you sure that those wires shouldn't cross the other way?" the Colonel pointed out, for what seemed to be the hundredth time in under an hour. "That seems awfully dangerous to me Major."

"If you know everything then why I am the one on my knees fixing this thing instead of you?" Biggs said under his breath, so that the Colonel didn't hear him.

Eventually Everett seemed to tire of annoying Biggs and wandered off to boss around his own men. Biggs visibly relaxed as the Colonel wandered off.

"Good. Now I can finally work in peace," Biggs muttered to himself. "Wedge, can you come over here and assist me with this. I might need a spare pair of hands."

Wedge gladly joined his commanding officer. Rat had been giving him strange looks ever since they had arrived at the site, and Wedge could sense that the man wanted to continue their earlier conversation.

Soon a peaceful working order was established. Wedge would pass Biggs the tools he requested, occasionally glancing at Biggs's work to see what the Major was doing, while the other new recruits stood on guard. A couple of times Colonel Everett returned to check on their progress, and Wedge would, as swiftly as possible, move from leaning on the side of the machine, to standing to attention. Wedge didn't really understand much of what Biggs' was doing, but occasionally he suggested solutions when the Major seemed frustrated by a problem, and while it barely helped the progress of the repairs, it at least earned him a grateful smile from Major Biggs.

Everything was mostly good in the world.

That was, until the peace was shattered when a bullet suddenly pierced Crane's stomach. The tall man fell to the ground, blood oozing from a fresh wound in his mid-section.

"Crane!" Rat shouted, moving to the other new recruit's side. He moved to cast a healing spell on his friend, but was quickly taken out by another bullet.

"What the hell!?" Biggs cursed when he heard the sound of gunfire. He took a quick look around the side of the BGH to see a group of eight men approaching the work site, one of them pointing a gun at where Rat and Crane had been standing only moments before.

"What's happening sir?" Wedge asked, peeking around.

"Get back dammit!" Biggs cursed, moving back around to hide behind the BGH again, and dragging Wedge with him.

There was another shot, and a small whimper came from one of the Knick Knack duo. A couple of seconds later Knack joined them around the other side of the BGH, carrying his comrade over his shoulder. Knick was now bleeding profusely from a bullet wound in the shoulder.

"Sir…" Wedge pleaded, "Sir, what's going o.."

The last part of Wedge's question was drowned out as an explosion rocked the BGH. Wedge watched in stunned horror as Biggs pulled a grenade from the tool belt on his waist and threw it over the top of the BGH. A satisfying explosion followed a couple of seconds later. For a moment silence reigned in the battlefield around the BGH, before Knick let out a strangled cry.

"Don't worry," Knack whispered as he applied a potion to the wound, even though his face and the tone of his voice revealed that he was probably more worried at that moment than his friend was.

Major Biggs poked his head around the corner to check how much damage his grenade had done. Only three of the enemy had fallen to the ground. Even worse, one of the survivors was now pointing something that looked suspiciously like a rocket launcher straight at the BGH.

"Oh shit," Biggs cursed as he ran back to the new recruits. "Everybody get do…" The sound of the following explosion interrupted Biggs's last word.

There was another one of those moments that seemed to drag out for far longer than was possible. Wedge and Biggs's eyes met in the chaos, and before Biggs could even think about what he was doing, he had grabbed Wedge and pulled the new recruit down to the ground, half shielding him so that his heavier armour would take the force of the explosion.

Biggs opened his eyes to find that the BGH repair site had turned into the sort of battlefield he had experienced far too many times, and had no desire to see again. It was the sort of battlefield that looked to him like hell. Wedge slowly opened his eyes and shut them as soon as he could see the little that was now left of their allies.

Biggs knew that Wedge would naturally freeze; shock and despair quickly taking hold of his muscles, but to stay in one place on a battlefield such as this would be suicide. He grabbed one of the new recruit's arms and dragged him behind the wreckage of the BGH. There was nothing left of the great machine the metal had once been, but there was still just enough to serve as a shield to protect the two of them.

"Wedge," Biggs said firmly, making sure to look the new recruit in the eyes. "Wedge, I know that you're in a bit of shock right now, but it's not over yet. We still have to get out of this alive, all right?" Biggs grabbed him by the shoulders and attempted to shake some sense into the new recruit. "All right?" he repeated.

Wedge nodded dumbly and pulled his sword from his belt.

"Okay," Biggs said, turning back to the approaching force. "Now, they'll think that we were all destroyed in that explosion, so we're going to use surprise. On the count of three we'll charge towards them and take them out. I'll let a volley of gunfire loose on them first, so don't stand in front of me, all right?"

"Yes sir," Wedge answered, his voice sounding a lot braver than Biggs thought he looked, or truly felt.

"One…" Wedge gripped onto his sword as though the weapon was now his only lifeline, making sure that he held any tears for his fallen comrades back for a safer time. "Two…" It was easy really. All he had to do was concentrate on Biggs's voice and channelling the shock he felt into anger became easy. "Three!"

The two of them charged, Wedge just a short way behind the Major. Biggs let out the promised round of gunfire, taking one of the men down. It would have also killed another if his comrade hadn't blocked the bullets with a sweep of his blade.

Biggs knew that it took an incredible amount of skill to pull a manoeuvre like that. Whoever these people were, Wedge and Biggs were going to have a tough time bringing them down.

Biggs brought his own blade out from its scabbard the instant before the two teams clashed, and moved it up just in time to deflect a cut that would have torn Wedge's head from his shoulders. Wedge and Biggs moved to stand back to back as the three attackers moved in on them.

Wedge managed a lucky slash at one of the attackers' leg, bringing him down in time for Biggs to stab him in the chest. The man fell to the ground, dead almost instantly. This only seemed to anger the remaining three, and Wedge and Biggs soon found that they were fighting just to defend themselves. It was almost impossible to get an attack in.

Wedge cried out as one of the attackers' blades made contact with his side, ripping open his armour and the skin underneath. He was momentarily stunned, and the attacker would have killed him with his next move if it wasn't for Biggs blocking just in time.

The clang of metal on metal seemed to snap Wedge out of his reverie. Just a split second after Biggs blocked, he brought his own blade up to thrust at the man who had attacked him. Wedge's opponent partially deflected the blade, but it still connected with the man's leg, bringing him down in time for Biggs to score a killing blow.

Now that they were two on two, the rest was easy. Both sides had talent, but Wedge and Biggs worked better to defend and attack together. Wedge had just scored a crippling blow when seemingly out of nowhere, a bullet connected with the man he was fighting. Soon another shot came and downed Biggs's opponent.

Looking up, Wedge and Biggs saw Colonel Everett and his second in command; the one in blue holding the gun that had fired the shots.

"Looks like I came just in time then, doesn't it?" Everett said, striking what he probably thought to be a heroic pose.

Biggs glanced at the wreckage of the BGH, then at the bodies that lay around them.

"Yes sir," he said, although Everett seemed to miss the sarcasm. "Just in time."

_Just in time for him to score a couple of kills and play at being a hero._

Biggs grit his teeth and strolled over to the wreckage of the BGH to see if anything was even mildly salvageable.

"By Odin!" Everett commented. "I know we have another one back at home base, but still; it's a shame that we lost the tank."

"A shame that we lost the…" Biggs scoffed. "Colonel, I lost four out of five of the new recruits just now. Fuck the BGH! Those men lost their lives for nothing!"

"If I was you Major," Everett said; his voice and demeanour suddenly turning cold, "I would just be grateful that I survived the incident."

Sensing that the conversation was getting a little too tense, Wedge attempted to change the subject. Besides, he really didn't want to think about Rat, Crane, Knick and Knack any more than he suspected Biggs wanted to talk about them. It just hurt too much.

"Who were they?" Wedge asked.

"Private Donis?" Everett asked his second in command, who was now kneeling next to one of the attackers' bodies.

"Timber rebels, sir!" Donis answered smartly. Wedge walked over to the Private and bent down to look at the dead man.

"How can you tell?" he asked Donis.

"See here," Donis pointed to a small tattoo of a fox on the man's neck. "That's the symbol of the Forest Foxes, one of the most active and dangerous revolutionary groups in Timber. My guess is that they were out here training or planning an attack and came across us by chance. They could have easily hidden behind an outcrop of rock and waited for the right time to attack us."

"Well," Everett said, grinning down at one of the bodies. "My guess is that there's going to be one revolutionary group that's going to be a lot less active in the near future."

Wedge got to his feet again, finding the process suddenly very difficult. The world seemed to be spinning a lot faster than usual.

Biggs took one look at the new recruit and shook his head.

"Permission to return to camp, sir?" he asked Major Everett.

"Permission granted. Don't worry; I'll give your four boys a proper burial."

For a moment Biggs wondered how Everett was going to find enough of the new recruits to give a burial, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything so heartless in front of Wedge when the new recruit was so obviously in shock.

"Come on, Wedge," Biggs said, placing an arm around Wedge to steady him.

"Wait," Wedge said, turning back to General Everett momentarily. "Make sure that you put Knick and Knack side by side. They would have wanted it that way."

General Everett nodded, and turned to say something to Donis.

Wedge stayed silent for the entire walk home.


	3. Chapter Two

AN: Well, thanks to any of you who have actually started to read chapter two. I appreciate it. Really I do. Warnings etc. and disclaimer are with the prologue and chapter one.

* * *

"The voice so sweet, the words so fair,

As some soft chime had stroked the air;

And though the sound were parted thence,

Still left an echo in the sense."

**Ben Jonson

* * *

**

Biggs glanced over at Wedge when they returned to camp. Biggs didn't need to be an expert to tell, with only a moment's observation, that Wedge was still feeling the after-effects of his first true battle.

Biggs had never been good in situations like this. He never really knew what to do. Even a simple comforting gesture made him feel awkward, and moving on with their lives and pretending that nothing had happened seemed completely out of the question.

So Biggs made a decision.

"Wedge," he asked the recruit. "Do you feel like some more walking?"

"If I have to," Wedge answered, sounding completely unenthusiastic about Biggs's suggestion. "Why?"

Biggs decided to let the lack of a title slip this one time.

"Come on Wedge," Biggs said; throwing an arm around Wedge's shoulders companionably. "I'm going to buy you a drink."

-(-0-)-

The walk to Deling City wasn't quite as long as the one from the breakdown site, but the silence made it seem longer. Biggs wasn't game to say anything in case it turned out to be the wrong thing, and it was over an hour before Wedge found the will to speak again.

"Sir, I didn't get the chance to thank you back there," the new recruit began in a shaky voice. "But you saved my life several times back there, so, thank you. I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you."

"Don't worry about it. Things like that happen all the time in the military. I'm sure you'll return the favour someday."

Wedge smiled an odd half smile that Biggs could just pick up. Sensing that maybe it was now time to bring Wedge back out of his shell, he pressed gently.

"What happened to you back there? I've heard of people freezing like you did when a battle starts, but only if they're inexperienced. What happened to all your experience as a SeeD candidate? What happened during your SeeD test? Come on Wedge; tell me a little more about yourself."

Every word felt awkward, but Biggs knew it was essential to press. Experiences like the one Wedge had just survived could leave serious emotional and psychological damage if the victim wasn't treated in the right way. Right now, Wedge needed companionship, and Biggs was the only one around that could give him that.

"My SeeD test wasn't anything like that was," Wedge answered, allowing Biggs to let out an internal sigh of relief. "All we had to do was escort a couple of visiting dignitaries from Galbadia Garden to the train station. The worst we had to do was fight a few monsters. No-one got killed!"

Biggs realised that beneath the safety of the tinted visor Wedge had begun to cry. He couldn't blame the Private. Four friends in fewer than five minutes had to be a new record of some sort.

"What about you?" Wedge sniffed, trying to hide how much he had been affected behind a staunch and emotionless voice.

"What about me?"

"Damn," Wedge said, wiping the tears away with frustration. "You must think I'm a girl for crying like this. I meant, what happened in your SeeD test?"

"Oh!" Biggs said, feeling a little sheepish. "Some General or someone lost his daughter in the forest. We had to go in, find her, and bring her back out again. There were a lot more monsters than we had expected, so it was pretty difficult, but we managed okay."

Biggs suddenly chuckled.

"What is it?" Wedge asked, a smile appearing on his face.

"Just reminiscing," Biggs sighed. He waited a couple of seconds for some sort of positive response from Wedge.

"What about?" Wedge asked, just as Biggs had hoped.

"Just after the SeeD test, before I left garden," Biggs began, glad that Wedge was beginning to come out of his shell, "I played a little prank. I poured a couple of kilos of sleep powder in the air conditioning system; complete brilliance if I do say so myself."

"That was you!" Wedge shouted; a look halfway between shock and hesitant respect forming on his face. The current image he had in his mind of his commander began to change considerably.

"You were there?" Biggs asked, grinning maniacally. "Good. How did it go? I didn't stick around long enough to experience the after effects, of course."

"Everyone just started falling asleep where they stood. We woke up and it was four hours later. Galbadia Garden was in complete chaos!"

To Wedge's surprise Biggs gave no reaction more significant than a slight chuckle.

"I can just imagine the Garden staff now, running around trying to organise everyone. Oh dear; that was without a doubt, the best prank Galbadia Garden has ever seen."

"It was clever," Wedge admitted.

The two of them fell into silence once more; both of them now quite content to finish the journey without talk. Wedge smiled as he listened to the soft sound of their feet falling on the ground, trying to remember the last time he hadn't felt awkward when a silence such as this had fallen when he was in someone else's company. He had always felt the need to fill it somehow, but now, even the slightest whisper of wind seemed like enough of a noise.

That was, until a loud growling sound erupted from somewhere near the two of them.

"Wedge, was that your stomach?" Biggs asked, a worried look growing on his face.

"Nope," Wedge looked down at his midsection sheepishly. "Yours?"

"No."

Biggs face and Wedge's both turned around to look back at the same time, only to find themselves staring straight at what would have to pass as the face of one of the most frustratingly common creatures in the Galbadian plains. It was incredibly ugly; it was frowning and swinging side to side; in short, it was a belhelmel. The belhelmel was a monster that looked something like a tribal mask, moved a little like a swinging pendulum, and attacked remarkably like a chainsaw.

"Look," Biggs told the belhelmel, a threatening scowl forming on the Major's face. "My friend here is going through a rather traumatic time right now, so if you don't mind, we'd appreciate it if you didn't attack us!"

The belhelmel looked momentarily confused, before deciding that maybe Biggs and Wedge weren't the sort of people he felt like picking on at that particular moment.

"Well," Biggs admitted. "I never expected that to work."

Wedge began to laugh, the contagious action soon spreading to Biggs, and before long, they were laughing all the way to Deling City.

-(-0-)-

The streets of Deling City were always busy, even during the middle of the night. Now, when day was just fading to night and the sky was lit in a glorious wash of pink and orange, and both the young and the desperate were finding their way to various hotspots and bars around the city, it was completely packed.

Biggs shoved his way through the people on the sidewalk, Wedge following just behind him. They eventually stopped in front of a door hidden between two rather gaudy looking shops. Wedge's eyes widened as he took in the name on the door.

"The Pianist?" he asked. "This is where Julia first performed!"

"It sure is," Biggs said, reaching up to take off his helmet. "I'm surprised that you knew that."

"Why?" Wedge asked.

"Ah, you just don't act like the sort of person that would know things that co…"

"Go on, you were going to say 'cool', weren't you? You don't think I'm cool enough to know where Julia first performed. I'll have you know that I wrote my own music during my time at Galbadia Garden, and can play the guitar as well."

"Yeah, whatever," Biggs answered, pulling his helmet all the way off.

Wedge watched in stunned amazement as a pitch black pony tail was freed from the back of Biggs' uniform. A playful fringe flopped down in front of deep blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. It was the first time Wedge had seen the Major without his helmet on, and he was surprised to say the least.

"You," Wedge said. "I remember you from Garden!"

"Really?" Biggs seemed genuinely surprised. "Well then, take off your own helmet and let's see if I remember you, huh? Unless you're planning to keep it on the whole night."

"No sir," Wedge said, blushing slightly now that he knew who Biggs was.

"Drop the ranks for tonight, okay?" Biggs told him, as the new recruit pulled his own helmet off. Biggs was sure he had something else to say to Wedge as well, but if he had, then his first look at Wedge's face made him forget the words.

The Private was blessed with fine features that would have made him seem feminine if it wasn't for his strong eyebrows. His sharp green eyes were slightly slanted, and his lips ever so slightly pouted. His dark brown hair was cut to standard regulation length; so short, apart from a small tuft at the front where a few strands of hair fell a little way over his forehead.

"Well," Biggs said, looking just as surprised as Wedge had been. "Not quite what I expected."

"What were you expecting; some freckle-faced geek?" Wedge asked playfully. "If it helps, you weren't exactly what I was expecting either."

"I don't know what I was expecting, but you…" Biggs found out that his full vocabulary still hadn't returned. "You're too damned pretty…" Biggs muttered under his breath, so quiet that Wedge wouldn't hear what he was saying.

Or so he thought.

"What was that?" Wedge asked. For a second Biggs feared that Wedge had heard every word clearly, but the look on Wedge's face was one of plain old curiosity; no smirk, no disgust; just a desire to work out what his commanding officer had just said.

"You do look slightly familiar though," Biggs commented, deciding that a change of subject was probably the best thing he could do. He leaned closer, staring at Wedge's face as though there was some clue there that would help him remember, before shrugging and opening the door to the hotel and bar.

Wedge shook his head and followed Biggs, wondering why it was that the Major seemed to be acting so strangely.

The receptionist looked up at the two of them as they entered, a grin forming on her face along with a slight hint of a pink blush.

"Can I get the two of you a room?" she asked them, the smile only growing.

"No thanks," Biggs answered. "I'm just here for the alcohol; as usual."

He tossed the receptionist a playful grin, which she returned. The blush on her face began to grow, until her whole face seemed to be red.

Biggs winked at the receptionist as he and Wedge moved into the bar. Wedge felt slightly put out that the woman had ignored him completely. Then again, she probably ignored half the customers that came in here. Obviously, Biggs was a regular, and in his element here, leaving Wedge feeling rather out of place. The new recruit decided it was time to bring the Major to the conversation they had started before.

"When I first came to Garden I was a fair bit shorter than I am now, so I can't blame you if you don't recognise me," Wedge began. He glanced up at Biggs to make sure the Major was listening before he continued. "I was attempting to carry my entire luggage to my dorm when the bottom of my suitcase broke open; the contents spilling all over the floor. A boy a few years older than me tripped over a few of my books which had fallen on the floor."

Something in Biggs seemed to snap, as though he was only now beginning to pay attention.

"The older boy fell flat on his face," Wedge continued with a smile on his face. "I was expecting him to be angry at me, but he wasn't. Sure he cursed a little, but as soon as he realised what had happened he bent down to help me pick everything else, and then helped me carry everything to my dorm. I didn't see him much over the next seven years, but I never forgot that initial act of kindness."

"Hey!" Biggs exclaimed as he obviously began to remember. "Yeah, now I remember that! Damn you had a lot of unnecessary shit in that bag of yours."

Biggs laughed and plonked down on the nearest chair, which was, by no amount of coincidence whatsoever, right near the bartender.

"Hey Major!" the bartender said cheerfully, ignoring Wedge completely, just as the receptionist had. "What'll be? The regular?"

Wedge couldn't help but groan a little. He felt so completely out of place. Biggs stopped halfway through some sort of jovial greeting and glanced over at the new recruit.

"Better make that two," Biggs told the bartender.

-(-0-)-

From what little Wedge could remember of the night, the two of them had fun, had consumed a _lot_ of alcohol, and had ended up on stage drunkenly serenading the other patrons. Consequently, they were kicked out. Apparently it wasn't the first time for Biggs.

And now Wedge had absolutely no intention of ever walking kilometres across the Galbadian plains in the middle of the night completely drunk _ever again_. It had been difficult enough the first time, especially with Biggs joking that Wedge fought like a girl every time they came across a monster.

At least they were both alive the next morning, although after the two seconds it took for Wedge's mind to register both his massive hangover and the events of the day before, he wished he had died last night.

Training halted for all of a day, before Biggs announced that he would fill out some paper work and then they would continue training regardless of the fact that there was now only one recruit to train.

"Excuse me sir," Wedge commented, when he received the news, "but I've already got my SeeD experience behind me. Wouldn't it make more sense for me to finish training early?"

"I suppose so," Biggs admitted, "but do you really want to finish early? I mean better safe than sorry, right?"

"Well, yes sir, but we'd both be put to better use if you didn't have to continue training me, wouldn't you sir?"

"You're right," Biggs conceded defeat and visibly slumped. "Ha-ha. I guess I just don't want to go back to my duties as the In Combat Mechanics Division. I'll talk to the General about it."

Wedge didn't know why, but he felt as though Biggs wasn't telling the complete truth.

-(-0-)-

"So Major Biggs," General Caraway looked at the officer standing in front of him doubtfully. "You feel that Private Wedge is ready to enter the military."

"He could have been a SeeD right now if he wanted to sir!" Biggs said, making sure he stood as straight and correctly as possible.

"Just a simple yes or no will suffice Major."

"Yes sir."

"Well then. I see no reason why he shouldn't graduate now, then. Do you think he will want to apply for one of the specialised divisions or just enter as a regular trooper?"

"I don't know sir!"

"Fine," General Caraway frowned as though the last thing he wanted was for Biggs to give him something else to think about. He shuffled around in one of his drawers for a second before pulling out a couple of folders; both of which were stuffed full of paper.

"Give him these forms anyway," General Caraway continued, passing one of the folders to Biggs. "You'll remember when Major Gallen had you fill them in no doubt. And these," Caraway passed the other folder to the Major, "Are a few tests you'll need to put him through before he can graduate. Test him and get him to fill in these forms and return them to me. I will then determine if he is suitable for any of the positions or divisions he has requested."

"I have no doubt that he will prove invaluable to whatever squadron he signs up for sir."

"You're faith in Private Wedge does him credit already," General Caraway's face looked as though it should make some sort of creaking noise as his wrinkled features moved into a rare grin. "Maybe ICM will finally have a second member?"

Biggs couldn't help but return the General's smile.

"I would like to hope so sir, but I doubt it," Biggs said, taking the folders from General Caraway and tucking them under one arm. "Wedge belongs with the best, perhaps with General Barron sir."

"We shall see."

-(-0-)-

"What's this?" Wedge asked when Biggs dumped the massive folder in his arms that afternoon.

"A preference form apparently," Biggs answered gruffly, "and your application for an early graduation. That's one of the problems with this army. You have to fill in a dozen forms if you even request a day off, and they'll usually want it in triplicate."

"Preference?" Wedge looked puzzled. "What for?"

"Which squadron or division you'll enter once your graduation has been processed. My best advice to you is to pick whichever squadron you really want to become a part of and structure the rest of your application to match the requirements of that squadron. A lot of people don't get their choice, but you shouldn't have any problem."

"What happens if I don't get accepted into the squadron I choose?" Wedge asked, looking rather worried at the prospect. "And how do they decide whether you're good enough?"

"Well, for a start I'll be giving you basic tests over the next couple of days to determine your physical strength, agility and accuracy," Biggs opened the other folder he had been given and had a quick flick through it. "The results will be put on these other forms here. You'll also need to write a written application stating why you feel you should be a part of that particular squadron. The application is first checked over by General Caraway and his administration team to make sure it's passable, then the final choice is up to the commanding officer of the squadron, so it doesn't hurt to do a little ego rubbing in your written application. If the officer rejects your application, which I seriously doubt he will, then you'll probably end up in as a plain old trooper patrolling the streets of Timber, or somewhere similar."

"What happened to you sir?"

Biggs looked a little upset by Wedge's question. For a moment he didn't answer, but then he let out an enormous sigh and began to speak in a rather hushed voice.

"I didn't want to hand in an application. I would have been happy being just a trooper, but Major Gallen, who was the ICM squadron before me, was killed in action the day I finished training," Biggs sighed again, and Wedge was almost sure he saw tears forming in the corner of Biggs's eyes. "He was a good man Gallen. He used to pop by while we were training quite often, and he taught me a lot of what I know about mechanics. It seems that he thought I was pretty good with machines, because Major Gallen left a message before he died, saying that if he was killed in action then I was to take over his position. I thought that anything Major Gallen did would have been a good enough job for me."

Biggs let out a laugh so unexpected at this stage of the story that it made Wedge jump. "The lesson of my story; be very wary of any position that they offer you," Biggs continued. "Chances are it's because they couldn't give the job away to anyone else."

"I'll remember that, sir."

-(-0-)-

The tests turned out to be much like training, except that instead of running the obstacle course with him, Biggs stood on the sideline with a timer. In hand to hand, magic and swordplay Wedge found himself fighting against a mechanical soldier while Biggs stood a little way away, watching every move Wedge made, and adding or deducting points depending on how well Wedge fought.

Wedge was pleased when to discover that he had scored high in all tests except magic.

"Sorry Wedge, but that's a score of zero."

Wedge groaned.

"Ah, don't worry," Biggs said. "At least it's not negative."

"You can get a negative score?" Wedge asked, the news relieving him a little.

"Well, technically yes, but you'd have to be pretty hopeless. Don't worry, we'll practice a little, and then you can take the test again. No-one's going to know the difference."

Wedge groaned again.

-(-0-)-

"Good afternoon everyone!" a cheery voice called out one afternoon while Biggs was attempting to help Wedge improve his magical abilities.

Wedge and Biggs looked up to discover Colonel Everett and Private Donis standing in the doorway.

"Err… Hello," Biggs said, looking more confused by the Colonel's presence than anything else. "Well sir," he added, "this is a surprise." Wedge couldn't help but notice that the room suddenly seemed full of fake smiles.

"We just thought we'd drop by and let you know that we've got the other BGH working perfectly," Everett said, with just a little too much enthusiasm for Wedge's liking. "And we thought we'd also see how the new recruit's doing. How is everything Wedge? We heard that you're going to be finishing training early."

"Well, well," Biggs muttered under his breath. "News does travel fast."

"We could do with a good man like you in Research and Development," Colonel Everett said, leaning so close to Wedge that he could smell the man's breath. "That is, if you'd be willing to join us."

"Thank you sir," Wedge said politely, trying not to shrink away from the Colonel. "I'll keep your offer in mind."

"Yeah, you came just to see how the new recruit's doing," Biggs scoffed once the Colonel had disappeared. "He was trying to recruit you."

"Sir, I don't…"

"Look Wedge, I know you said you'd think about his offer," Biggs interrupted. "But please; please do not join Research. Unless you're a complete technical geek the squadron is even worse than ICM and you've Colonel Everett as commanding officer to boot."

"Sir," Wedge said, finding it hard not to laugh. "Sir, I have no intention of applying for Research."

"Like I said, they only offer…" It took a couple of seconds for Biggs's brain to register the information. "Oh. Well, that's okay then."

"I am curious to know why you hate Everett so much though," Wedge added as an afterthought. "If you don't mind me asking sir."

"Well to be honest I wouldn't hate him so much if he tried to me a little nicer to me," Biggs answered. "But he's hated me for almost as long as he's known me."

"You don't say," Wedge grinned. "But why does he hate you sir?"

"I'll get back to you on that one," Biggs looked a little sheepish. "For a while I thought it might be because I got Major Galen's job and he didn't, but he hated me before I was ICM too, so that can't be it. How's the paperwork coming along?"

Wedge took Biggs's swift change of subject as an indication that he didn't want to talk about Everett any more.

"All right, although there's a lot of it, sir. I should be able to finish it in a couple of days."

Biggs nodded, looking a little downcast for some reason that Wedge couldn't figure out.

"Well then," Biggs said, shifting to a more confident looking pose. "I should get your magic up to scratch then, shouldn't I?"

-(-0-)-

Wedge splashed a little water on his face, hoping it would wake him up a little. It had been a long day, and there was still a lot of paperwork that he needed to get done before he could sleep.

He took a look at his reflection in the mirror, and nearly recoiled in disgust. Dark rings were beginning to form underneath his eyes, and there was something about his face that he couldn't quite spot that made him look ghastly; undoubtedly because he no longer had his family to care for him and help him look after himself, and Wedge knew that when he graduated it would only get worse.

He turned the tap off and turned to look around at the room he was standing in. As much as he hated the barracks bathrooms with their identical and extremely Spartan white showers, he was going to miss the place.

He looked back at his reflection in the mirror, disappointed to find that there had been no visible improvement in the last couple of seconds. He realised that the tap was beginning to drip, and tried unsuccessfully to turn the water completely off.

_Another leak_, he thought with a sigh.

So much about his new lifestyle was turning out to be not quite what Wedge had been expecting, and certainly not what the glamorous posters back in Garden had made it out to be. It wasn't just the leaky taps and lack of paycheques either. Biggs wasn't exactly the sort of person many people would look up to, but Wedge definitely considered him a friend and a good leader; not to mention that the Major was… well… cool.

It had been his dream to join General Barron's elite squadron and become a hero of the Galbadian people, but it was a dream that was quickly fading. He had never thought that he would willingly give up a chance to fulfil that dream, and certainly not because of something as intangible as friendship. There was still that decision to make; still a blank space beneath the words 'Preferred Squadron' on his application form. For the moment he had no idea what squadron name he should write there.

Wedge was just about to return to his barracks and finish filling out the forms when a soft sound floated towards his ears from one of the end showers, echoing around the tiled room along with the soft splash of water.

Someone was humming. It was a nameless little tune; something impromptu and not very well thought out, but something about it compelled Wedge to stay in the building for a little longer.

The humming stopped, and was soon replaced by singing. The sound was so beautiful that Wedge was rooted to the spot.

He couldn't help it. It was as though some other force had possessed him through the sound of that voice and was now drawing him to it like metal to a magnet. The voice launched into the chorus, and all hope of turning back was gone. One foot followed the other on the cold tile floor until he found himself at the shower that was the source of the echoing serenade.

The voice was so hungry, so passionate. What had started out as a soft trickle like a forest stream was now the roar of a violent downpour, and its source…

… was Biggs.

Wedge leaned against the thick concrete wall that separated the two cubicles and watched, now completely captivated, as Biggs's song began to wind down.

It took him a while to realise the humour in the fact that Biggs was singing in the shower at the top of his voice in the middle of the night in the training barracks bath house. The funniest thing however, was merely the fact that it sounded really good. Biggs had an incredible voice, and Wedge couldn't help but admire it.

Biggs's song came to a halt, ending in one long, low and soft note that gradually faded into oblivion.

"That was beautiful sir," Wedge sighed, meaning every word.

Biggs turned around rather quickly. There was an awkward moment in which they both realised the strangeness of their current situation, before Biggs screamed and grabbed for his towel.

"Oh… uh… um, sorry sir," Wedge stuttered, blushing fiercely as he did. "It's just that I heard you singing and I… uh…"

"I had no idea anyone else was in here," Biggs muttered, trying to look dignified despite the fact that the towel around his waist was making him seem anything but. "I'm sorry you heard that."

"Well, I'm not," Wedge was surprised at himself as soon as the words left his mouth. "I meant what I said," Wedge said, blushing even redder. "You have a beautiful voice."

Wedge turned to leave, unable to take the awkwardness of the situation any longer.

"Wedge," Biggs called out quietly. Wedge turned around slowly to face his commanding officer.

"Thank you," Biggs said, now blushing as red as Wedge.

"No sir," Wedge returned, flashing a smile at Biggs. "Thank you."

"Umm… Wedge?" Biggs spoke again. "I… um… well… Did you want to go to Deling City with me again tomorrow? We can get a car this time, and I promise I won't get as drunk as last time."

Wedge laughed. "That would be great sir."

-(-0-)-

"Wedge," Biggs began over a glass of scotch the following night. "There are some things I want to talk to you about before you…" Biggs paused for a minute, obviously finding the next word difficult to acknowledge. "Leave."

"Sure," Wedge said, taking a sip of his vodka and lemonade.

"You belong with the best Wedge; you really do," Biggs said. "So I'm going to help you. Now General Barron's Elite Squadron is really, really good if you want fame and glory and all of that, but the pay isn't too good. The President's honour guard gets paid a shit load, but they're not as famous. A good job; a nice, safe one, is with General Caraway in administration, and they get paid an awful lot too. Of course, there are others that aren't quite as good, but basically all right, and you'll definitely get…"

"Sir," Wedge said quietly, putting his drink down on the bar, stifling a laugh.

"They wouldn't turn back a good…"

"Sir!" Wedge interrupted more forcefully this time. Biggs looked startled. "Sir, thank you for the advice, but I've already chosen a squadron."

"You have?"

"I finished filling out the forms last night and sent them off earlier today."

"Oh. Well, I was just thinking that a few days ago you didn't even know you had a choice so you might want a little advice…"

"Sir," Wedge said, subconsciously placing his hand on Biggs's. "I appreciate it. I really do."

Biggs smiled, looking a little like he was going to hug Wedge and start crying on his shoulder at any moment.

"Just remember what I told you Wedge," he added. "I'm too nice. Most of the other officers out there are bastards, and if you don't add a 'sir' and salute at the end of your sentences or do _anything_ out of line then you'll lose your pay or worse."

"Don't worry sir," Wedge grinned. "I'll remember that along with everything else you've taught me."

Biggs attempted a grin and turned back to his drink. Wedge wondered at the officer's silence, but didn't comment. If it was important then he'd find out the reason for Biggs's actions eventually.

-(-0-)-

The car that the two of them had hired turned out to be just as unreliable as walking. They were three quarters of the way back to the barracks when the engine let out a rather disturbing banging noise, followed by a hiss of steam.

Biggs cursed, slammed open the door and stomped to the front of the bonnet. He opened the front of car to find a steaming mess.

Wedge jumped out of the passenger side and strolled to Biggs's side.

"What's wrong with the engine sir?" he asked.

"Everything that could be wrong with it Wedge," Biggs said, scowling. "It's just as well I take some basic tools around with me. Be thankful that you're with ICM right now because I doubt even the great legend that is elite squadron would have enough courage or intelligence to fix this."

Biggs disappeared into the front of the car, and reappeared a couple of seconds later holding a piece of bent metal.

"In fact," Biggs said, turning the metal this way and that as if he couldn't work out what it was. "I'm not so sure _I_ even know how to fix it."

Wedge shivered as a gust of wind blew against his side. All was silent for a couple of minutes, until a noise that sounded vaguely like a strangled scream came from a clump of forest nearby.

"Um sir," Wedge hesitated. "Is it safe to be out here in the middle of the night?"

"We came back alive last time, didn't we?"

"Yes sir, but then the smell of alcohol probably scared all the monsters away."

"True that," Biggs said from somewhere in the bonnet. "But that's why the army gives you a sword. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Yes sir," Wedge said, making sure his posture looked a lot more confident than he felt.

Various creaking and whistling noises emerged from the surrounding area again, accompanied by the curses and clangs of Biggs working on the car. Wedge drew his sword, ready for anything that might emerge.

The creaking noises seemed to be getting louder. Wedge realised that whatever it was, it was coming closer. It was now so close that he could hear the rustling of bushes as the creature made its way through the dense undergrowth. He changed his pose slightly, bringing his blade up in time to attack when the creature finally showed itself.

One second closer, then another, and then finally it emerged!

"You again?" Wedge stared at the familiar looking belhelmel doubtfully.

The belhelmel growled at Wedge, swinging to and fro furiously.

"Okay then," Wedge attempted. "I've recovered so you've come back for a proper fight; is that it?"

The belhelmel growled in response.

"Would it help any if I told you that even though I'm fine right now, Major Biggs is going through a rather tough time at the moment?"

The belhelmel growled again and shook itself from side to side as though shaking its head.

"Are you sure?" Wedge pushed his luck.

The belhelmel's response was to charge at him furiously, bringing his blades up to attack.

"ArgghhhH!" Wedge screamed, attempting to run away from the creature's blades.

"Would you keep it down Wedge?" Biggs asked. "I'm trying to work here, and this part is going to be rather difficult."

"I'd love to be able to sir!" Wedge said, right after taking a swing at the belhelmel. "However, I'm in a little bit of trouble right now so… Argh!"

"Wedge," Biggs muttered, emerging from the front of the car. "What on earth are you talking about?" Biggs quickly took in the presence of the belhelmel and Wedge's current struggle against the monster.

"Uh… You need some help Private?" he asked.

"No sir," Wedge answered, pushing the belhelmel's face away with one hand and using his sword to keep the blades away with the other.

"You sure?" Biggs asked.

"Yeah," Wedge answered while his face was only an inch away from one of the swinging blades. "I'll be fine. You just keep working on getting the car fixed."

Biggs shrugged and put his head back underneath the bonnet.

Wedge let out a small victory 'whoop!' when one of his blows hit the belhelmel. The monster jumped back as the blade hit, and began to whimper even though Wedge had barely scratched it.

"Yeah!" Wedge cried. "That's what you get for messing with an ex-SeeD-cadet!"

The belhelmel looked at him, its bottom lip quivering.

"Aww…" Wedge sighed. "Don't look at me like that. It was your own fault you know. You shouldn't go around looking for fights."

"Wedge, could you please stop making friends with the wildlife and come and help me?"

"Yes sir!" Wedge answered smartly, leaving the belhelmel to wander off again.

"You know," Biggs said as Wedge joined him beside the vehicle. "This kind of works well having me fix things while you guard."

"Yes sir," Wedge said, rubbing a spot on his arm where the belhelmel had made contact. "It works very well."

Wedge couldn't help but smile, despite the pain.


	4. Chapter Three

AN: I'm sorry for the length of this chapter, but I really couldn't think of a good place to split it. I personally feel that this chapter is when it really starts to get interesting, and it's been my favourite to write, so I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I do.

"Then come the wild weather, come sleet or come snow,  
We will stand by each other, however it blow."

**Simon Dach**

Biggs sighed and leaned back against the exterior wall of his quarters at the training barracks. Today would probably be one of the last days he spent in these buildings, he realised. He glanced up at the sky, which today was dotted with patches of white and grey clouds; not enough to rain, but just enough to keep the day colder than it would be if the scorching hot sun was allowed to have a free reign over the weather. Overall, not too bad a day to start saying goodbye. It would after all only be a couple more days before Wedge received a summons to whatever squadron he had chosen to join.

And then what? Would he ever get a chance to talk to the Private as a companion again? Biggs doubted it. The Galbadian military didn't exactly make it easy for two people in different squadrons to keep in touch with one another. Who knew? Perhaps one day the elite squadron, or whoever it was that Wedge had chosen, would request the assistance of ICM, and then the two of them would get to spend a couple of very awkward and mostly silent hours in each other's company.

Damn it, Biggs mentally cursed. When had he become so sappy? Hadn't he worked hard enough to appear cold and unapproachable over the years? When the hell had he become so emotionally reliant on Wedge?

He reached up and took off his helmet. For some reason the atmosphere suddenly seemed too stuffy for his liking. He turned his attention to the clouds again, watching as a couple of clouds touched and then merged together to become one.

A small, nervous coughing brought the Major out of his reverie.

"Excuse me sir."

Biggs looked down to discover a small, wiry Private staring at him.

"Yes?" he asked the Private.

"You're Major Biggs of ICM, aren't you sir?" the man seemed unsure.

"Err… yes?"

The Private held out a large, official-looking brown envelope.

"Mail for ICM sir, from administration," the Private said, quickly saluting and disappearing before Major Biggs could say anything.

Mail? Okay; so that was what the Galbadian military's mailman looked like these days. It had been so long since ICM had received any mail apart from routine summons that Biggs was nearly unable to believe that he was really holding an envelope in his hands.

He shook the envelope, checking to make sure there was no likelihood of it containing a bomb. He wouldn't put it past Everett to try and blow him up, even if a letter bomb did seem a little too intelligent for the Colonel. Realising that there probably wasn't anything inside apart from paper he shrugged and tore the top of the envelope open. Glancing inside he found it contained a rather thick folder, and a singular piece of paper. He pulled the piece of paper out first and scanned through it.

Addressed to Major Biggs, commanding officer of ICM, the usual formalities… blah, blah, blah… the folder inside contains several… blah, blah, blah… we hope you give the matter considerable attention and come to the right conclusion involving the suitability of the…

His helmet dropped from his hand and thudded on the dusty ground as he realised exactly what the folder contained.

"WEDGE!" he roared.

-(-0-)-

Wedge lay back on his bunk, staring up at the knots in the wood of the bunk above his. Wedge could remember that the bunk had once belonged to Crane, although Wedge was quickly forgetting what the tall man and the other new recruits' faces had looked like.

For a brief moment he wondered what squadrons the others would have applied for if they had been given the same opportunity.

From there his thoughts quickly jumped to the same worries they had been revolving around for the past couple of hours; all of them about his own application. What if he wasn't accepted? What if there was no extra room in the squadron for him? What if he simply wasn't wanted? What would happen then?

Wedge jumped as his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sounds and sudden bright light that came as Biggs pushed open the door and entered the barracks building unannounced.

"Wedge!" he roared, walking over to the bunk as soon as he spotted the Private.

Wedge sat up, careful not to bump his head on the bunk above his. His heart began to thump as he dreaded what Biggs's reaction could possibly mean.

"Sir?" he asked, his voice a lot less sure of himself than he wanted it to be.

"What is this?" Biggs asked, shaking a rather familiar looking folder.

"My application," Wedge answered, surprised to realise that Biggs wasn't wearing his helmet. He watched as Biggs's face seemed to relax, and a solitary tear began to crawl down one of the Major's cheeks, only to be wiped off in frustration.

A hint of a smile appeared on the Major's face, before Biggs shook his head and collapsed onto his knees in front of Wedge.

"You could do so much better than ICM, you know," he told him. He shook his head again and then rested it on Wedge's knees.

The Private was momentarily stunned by this unexpected action, and it took him a little while to answer.

"If by better you mean working under some tight-arsed, personality-lacking bastard like Colonel Everett then I'd prefer to stay here, sir."

Biggs's head came up; his and Wedge's eyes meeting in another one of those sudden, heart-wrenching moments that Wedge was beginning to get used to. Wedge tried an encouraging smile. Biggs laughed and let his head flop back down onto Wedge's knees.

"You're crazy," the Major told Wedge, "absolutely crazy. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"Not until just now sir," Wedge answered. He hesitated for a moment. Biggs still hadn't moved from his position on the floor. "Does this mean that my application has been accepted, sir?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Biggs laughed then, looking up at Wedge once again.

"I'd be crazier than you are if I said no," he said. He let his head flop down on Wedge's knees again. "Wedge," Biggs mumbled. "Welcome to ICM squadron."

Wedge grinned; glad that Biggs had accepted his application. The two of them stayed silent for a while, surprised to find that they were both quite comfortable sitting as they were. A secure silence settled between the two of them, broken only when Biggs added something, seemingly just in case Wedge hadn't caught his message the first time.

"I still say you're crazy."

-(-0-)-

It was only a couple of days before the newly expanded ICM squadron received a summons for their first mission together. Two days after Wedge's rather unofficial welcoming into the squadron, Biggs found himself opening an envelope from none other than General Barron's elite squadron, requesting ICM's assistance with a mission in Deling City.

Biggs dragged Wedge to the back of the sole building that was ICM headquarters, and presented the official ICM truck to his new second in command.

Wedge observed the slightly rusty hunk of metal, before climbing in beside Biggs, almost fainting when the vehicle started first go.

"Why haven't we used this before, sir?" Wedge asked; the cuts he had gained from his fight with the belhelmel and the now fading blisters that had grown because of their walk to the BGH crash site all crying out in protest.

"This vehicle is for official ICM business only Wedge," Biggs answered. "So don't think we can use this for our little drinking trips to Deling City."

A grin slowly spread over Biggs's face. "Although, there's no reason why we shouldn't visit the Pianist while we're in town." He winked at Wedge.

Biggs started the car, and ICM headed towards their first mission together.

-(-0-)-

"You know, I was born and bred on the outskirts of Deling City," Biggs commented as the city came into sight. "I even got to see Julia once."

"What was that like sir?" Wedge asked, immediately getting excited. There probably wasn't a person in the world that hadn't heard of the famed singer, and while he himself didn't usually listen to or play the slow, romantic sort of music that the pianist favoured, she would always remain one of his favourites, especially because of her song-writing. As a teenager he had attempted to copy her style, only to fail. He knew now that until he had something to inspire him, he never would have the talent Julia did.

"I don't remember much," Biggs answered, looking slightly sheepish. "I was only six at the time; didn't realise what an honour it was. Apparently she leaned down and shook my hand, said something inspirational about how I should always follow my dreams, and moved on to the next fan."

"Is it true that General Caraway was Julia's husband.?"

"Yeap. Sure is," Biggs answered. "And it's true they had a daughter as well, although she strikes me as a bit of a brat. She's always out supporting resistance movements and such. She does it just to upset her father, I'm sure of it."

"Rather like you then, right sir?"

Biggs fell silent at that remark from his subordinate and for a couple of minutes neither of them said anything. Wedge couldn't help but grin at Biggs's obvious embarrassment.

The car pulled into the city and Biggs parked the car into the first park he found.

"Where are we to report sir?" Wedge asked, jumping out of the car.

Biggs went to step out as well, and paused halfway. He moved back into the car and pulled out the summons again, rereading it very slowly.

"You know something Wedge?" he said, scanning the document again and again. "It doesn't actually say where we're supposed to report."

"So, should we maybe visit General Caraway and see if he knows where General Barron and the elite squadron are supposed to be?"

"That sounds like a brilliant idea Wedge," Biggs said. "Well done. We are now going to report to General Caraway and ask if he knows the location of the elite squadron. Follow me!"

He then began to march in a completely over-exaggerated motion towards the General's mansion.

Wedge sighed, shook his head and followed the Major towards their destination.

-(-0-)-

Wedge had never seen the famed mansion before, and at first was completely overawed by its opulence. It seemed that gold covered almost every awning and decoration. There seemed to be so many doors and hallways that a person could easily get lost inside the building, especially after spending so much time in buildings as small as the training barracks and ICM headquarters.

Biggs seemed to know exactly where he was going though, and turned into a couple of hallways as though it was second nature. He stopped at a rather large and plain looking door and knocked a couple of times.

"Come in," someone on the other side of the door announced.

Wedge followed Biggs into administration headquarters, which also seemed to serve as the Caraway sitting room. Caraway looked up from his work with a small amount of surprise.

"Good morning Major Biggs, Private Wedge," he nodded at the both of them.

"Sir," they replied, saluting at the same time.

"And why do I find ICM standing in front of me on this fine day?"

"We received a summons from General Barron, sir," Biggs answered.

"And what exactly does that have to do with me?"

"The summons neglected to mention where we should report, sir."

General Caraway seemed mildly amused by the Major's answer.

"That would be the new recruit's fault, no doubt," Caraway sighed. "Like ICM, the elite squadron has recently acquired a new member. The boy tries his hardest, he really does, but excitement at being part of the elite squadron occasionally causes him to slip up."

Biggs and Wedge stayed silent, waiting for the General to actually give them an answer to their unasked question. Caraway stopped to study some sort of paper on his desk.

Biggs coughed slightly, reminding the General that they were still in the room.

"They're in the sewers Major," Caraway finally told them. "And before you ask, the easiest way to get where they should be is the ladder in the control room of the arch gate in the centre of the city. You of course know the one I'm talking about?"

"Of course sir. I performed the special adjustments you requested in secret a couple of months a…"

"That will be all Major," General Caraway interrupted him, sending him what Wedge thought must have been a stare filled with meaning. Whatever the two of them were talking about obviously needed to be kept secret.

-(-0-)-

The entrance to the sewers was easy to find, as long as you knew that by pressing a certain panel on the famed arch of Deling City you opened a door to a secret control room. After that it was just a matter of making sure you didn't fall in the open hole in the ground as soon as you stepped into the room.

"Hello!" Biggs called down into the hole, his voice echoing back up to them.

A few echoes followed, and soon a head popped out of the hole to address the two of them.

"ICM?" it asked.

"Reporting for duty sir!" Major Biggs said, saluting the elite squadron member.

"I'm just a Private, Major," the squadron member admitted. "Newly signed up. Come on down and I'll introduce you to the General."

Biggs and Wedge glanced at each other. This must have been the new recruit General Caraway had told them about. They smiled at the new recruit and followed him down the ladder into the sewer tunnels.

"Private Tavis!" a voice bellowed as they entered the underground and were assaulted with the most potent stench either of them had ever come across. "Is that ICM?"

"Yes sir!" Tavis answered, sounding just a little too enthusiastic for someone that had apparently spent a while down in the sewers already.

"General Barron?" Biggs asked the man in the red uniform.

"Yes I am," the General answered, sounding very put off that anyone could think otherwise.

Biggs and Wedge looked at each other, relieved that they had found the right person.

"Reporting for duty sir!" Biggs said, nudging Wedge to make sure that the Private also saluted. One look at Private Wedge was enough to tell that he was hero struck.

"Very good Major," General Barron said. He glanced at Wedge, who was still saluting. "Major Biggs, it seems ICM has a new member."

"Yes sir," Biggs said, surprised that General Barron actually knew his name. "This is Private Wedge. This is his first mission with ICM."

"What's the matter Wedge," General Barron asked him. "Didn't get into your chosen squadron?"

"I chose ICM sir," Wedge answered, feeling rather unsure of himself in the presence of his hero.

"Really?" General Barron sounded extremely surprised at Wedge's answer. "You must be crazy."

"Major Biggs said the same thing sir," Wedge grinned. "But its not always sense that guides our decisions sir."

"Whatever you reckon soldier," General Barron said, giving Wedge the distinct impression that he hadn't listened to a word Wedge had said. "Now, I suppose you're wondering what a hero like me is doing in the sewers."

Biggs didn't answer. Neither did Wedge, who seemed to be wrestling with the concept that General Barron wasn't as generous and perfect as the legends had made him seem.

"The truth is that the Galbadian army are starting a project that will change the sewers into one of the most brilliant and revolutionary devices ever created to aid the defence of the city," General Barron boasted. "With the help of Research and Development we have created a plan that will transform these tunnels into a maze; one which our enemies will find almost impossible to traverse, but one which will our own soldiers will be able to use to escape from the city if we ever find ourselves under attack."

Biggs visibly deflated at the mention of Colonel Everett's squadron.

"We have created," Biggs and Wedge jumped when the familiar sounding voice came from behind them. "Two devices which when installed will become the main components of the maze. To an outsiders eye they will just look like the workings of the sewerage system."

Wedge and Biggs turned around to come face to face with Colonel Everett.

"I will be here to assist you with the installation of the first few components," Colonel Everett explained. "After that it will be up to you to install the rest."

"Why don't R and D do all of the installations themselves?" Wedge asked.

"We're much too busy," Colonel Everett explained. Biggs had trouble keeping his laughter in. He could no sooner imagine Colonel Everett doing any work which would get him as dirty as the sewer mission was bound to, than imagine General Barron working without his ego.

"Since I'm sure you're wondering," General Barron interrupted, adding a flourish of his hand for effect. "Elite squadron were the only ones with a firm enough grasp of psychology and military tactics to devise the exact path the maze would take."

"It's why we were a part of it," Private Tavis added, seemingly unaware of how egomaniacal his commanding officer was making the squadron sound at the moment.

"Come with me," Everett told them, ignoring Elite Squadron's antics. "I'll show you the first installation site."

"Good luck ICM!" Private Tavis said, waving to the three of them as they walked off.

Wedge looked back just in time to see Tavis get chastised by General Barron.

Colonel Everett shook his head once they were far enough away from elite squadron.

"That man has a far too high opinion of himself," the Colonel commented, choosing to ignore when Biggs snorted, apparently in an attempt to keep his laughter back.

"Are you all right Wedge?" Biggs asked when he noticed the Private's silence.

"He just," Wedge shrugged, "wasn't what I expected him to be, I guess."

"Heroes very rarely are," Biggs said. "Just be glad you didn't choose his squadron after all."

"Yes sir," Wedge said.

Ahead of them, Colonel Everett snorted, the familiar tone of the conversation apparently becoming too much for his liking.

They trudged through the sewers very slowly, mainly because Colonel Everett insisted on going at a sluggish pace that ensured that Wedge and Biggs's boots were completely covered in sludge by the time they had reached their destination.

"Well, here it is," Everett finally announced, pointing out a pile of steel rods, planks, wheels and nuts and bolts. "These panels here will be strong enough to carry a person either up or down, and they're part of the maze structure, so it's vital that you install them in the right direction."

"Yes sir," Biggs answered through his teeth. Another Everett-standing-over-his-shoulder type mission; just what he'd been looking forward to.

Biggs set about to work, trying to organise the pieces in some semblance of order, also trying to work out exactly how they were supposed to construct this monstrosity. Sure, it worked in theory, until you realised that if you started by attaching everything to the belt then it would be impossible to add it to the rest of the structure. If you started by installing the fittings to the sewer floor then it would be impossible to fit the finished creation in. The only way you could possibly do it was to construct the entire thing on dry land and install it; belt, fittings and all, into the river of sludge in one quick and extremely difficult move that was going to mean being covered in sludge and smelling for at least a week afterwards.

Biggs moaned quite audibly when Colonel Everett pointed this out to him. He then bent down and showed Wedge some simple mechanical work that he could start on, and announcing that he was returning to the troop carrier to fetch some more specialised equipment.

"I shouldn't be long Wedge," Major Biggs said; although it was Everett that he glared at as he spoke.

"Okay," Wedge answered, beginning to connect a few of the parts.

"Take your time Major!" Everett said rather cheerfully.

Wedge worked in silence for a little while, painfully aware of Everett's eyes on him; watching his every move.

"So," Everett finally piped up. "ICM then, is it?"

"Yes sir," Wedge answered, already unsure if he liked where the conversation was heading.

"I can't say that I'm surprised, but still…" Everett leaned back against the tunnel wall, folding his arms in what looked to be a rather hostile gesture, "it insults me that you chose ICM over my own squadron, it really does."

"How so sir?" Wedge asked, fearing that he'd made an enemy out of Colonel Everett already.

"No offence Private, but ICM is hardly the most glamorous or well paying squadron in the military, and Major Biggs is irresponsible at best; reckless and dangerous at worst. That man doesn't belong in the army Wedge."

"That's my commanding officer you're talking about," Wedge hissed, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Still," Colonel Everett continued, "one must wonder _why_ Major Biggs is your commanding officer and not someone like General Barron or me."

"Major Biggs saved my life sir," Wedge answered, trying not to curse when Everett's comments distracted him enough to slip and injure himself. "And he trained me. I owe him a lot sir. He also hinted that ICM could use another member, so I obliged."

"Yet your use seems limited to being Major Biggs's private bodyguard and performing only the most basic of procedures. Do you have any grasp of mechanics, Private?"

"Not as much as Major Biggs sir," Wedge admitted.

"But he can learn," Biggs added, returning to the installation site with his arms full of tools and equipment. Biggs kneeled down and showed Wedge how to connect the next few parts together. Wedge nodded and continued working; relieved that Biggs had returned and put the conversation to a stop.

Biggs stood once more and glared at Colonel Everett.

"Colonel," Biggs hissed quietly, before momentarily turning around to see that Wedge was working and not listening in on the conversation. "I would appreciate it if you would stop harassing Private Wedge."

"That's right," Colonel Everett smirked. "That's supposed to be your job isn't it?" He glared at the both of them before turning to leave. "I'm sure the two of you will be fine without me. Good day to the both of you."

"Sir," Wedge called. "Just before you leave sir, I was wondering how Private Donis was, seeing as though he isn't here."

"I suppose Donis is all right," Everett shrugged, "although I wouldn't really know. He was too unreliable, so he was dropped from the squadron. Check the Timber Guard next time you're there and I'm sure you'll find him."

Everett grinned, unsettling Wedge in a way that he couldn't describe or make sense of, before stalking away.

"I'm sorry about that Wedge," Biggs said, dropping beside him to help with the construction. "The only reason he hates you is because of me, you know. You shouldn't have to suffer because of our little disagreements."

"Its okay sir," Wedge said, glad that Colonel Everett had left them in peace. "I think he was just pissed off that I didn't apply for R and D."

"Is that so? Well, it looks like I'll have Colonel Everett's jealousy to deal with on top of everything else now. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he kept trying to steal you away from me."

Wedge laughed. "Don't worry sir. You don't have anything to fear there. I shall resist his efforts with the utmost bravery and persistence."

Biggs laughed. "That's right. You're mine and I won't let anyone else take you away from me.

Wedge knew it was only said in jest, but somehow Biggs's possessiveness of him felt comforting.

-(-0-)-

"Tavis!" General Barron bellowed.

"Yes sir!" the Private answered.

"Report on ICM's progress!"

"Yes sir! Major Biggs and Private Wedge have fully installed three of the in-water devices. They said that they'd install the automatic doors once they were finished with the in-water devices, sir!"

"Good. They should do fine without us. Tomorrow we are to travel to Centra to communicate with the Lady Sorceress Edea. Don't worry; I'll explain who she is on the way."

"Yes sir. Of course sir."

Wedge and Biggs approached the two elite squadron members, covered in sludge but grinning despite it.

"Sir!" they saluted in synch.

"Requesting permission to retire for the day sir!" Biggs added. "We shall return at oh-eight-hundred-hours tomorrow to continue our work sir!"

"When do you think you will have the mission finished Major?" General Barron asked Biggs.

"It shouldn't take any longer than ten days sir!"

"Good," Barron nodded. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you sir!"

General Barron and Private Tavis watched as the two members of the ICM squadron clambered out of the sewer, laughing and reeking of the sewers, and shook his head.

"Tavis?"

"Sir?"

"Was it just me, or was there something slightly… queer, about those two?"

-(-0-)-

"Well Wedge. I bet you never thought we could have so much fun while knee deep in shit. Am I right?"

"You're right sir!" Wedge saluted, ignoring the fact that everyone was staring at them, undoubtedly because of the stench. "As always."

-(-0-)-

And so the first day of the Deling City sewer mission passed, the night bringing a drink or two at the Pianist bar and pillows and beds in the hotel rooms that seemed a hundred times more comfortable than the ones back at the squadron barracks.

The second day passed much the same as the first, minus the presence of General Barron's elite squadron and Colonel Everett, as did the third, fourth and fifth, as ICM moved deeper into the sewers. Soon, the two of them were able to ignore the stench and the sludge, and for no reason that either of them could figure, they were enjoying themselves.

-(-0-)-

"Did you feel something down there?" Wedge asked Major Biggs as the sixth day of work came to a close.

"What do you mean?" Biggs asked.

"I don't know," Wedge admitted. "But it felt like there was something down there with us. And before elite squadron left, Tavis mentioned that there have been rumours of monsters down there."

"Don't worry too much about it Wedge," Biggs said, taking another sip of his usual scotch. "I'm sure that the two of us could take care of any monster we meet down there."

Wedge felt silent and stared down at his drink.

"Wedge," Biggs began. "You don't regret joining ICM do you?"

"Sir?" Wedge had to grin. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I was just thinking that maybe you were expecting it to be something that it really isn't and would be disappointed."

"Sir," Wedge laughed quietly. "I'm happy here. I really am. In fact, I'd say I've never been happier."

Wedge was surprised to find that he meant it.

-(-0-)-

The next day came, and Wedge and Biggs weren't at all surprised to find themselves down in the sewers once again.

The duo had found themselves almost at the back of the sewers, in one of the darkest and most remote parts of the sewerage system. They only had four of the in-water systems left to install, and Biggs estimated that the doors would only take a couple of hours each. At the rate they were going they would finish almost exactly when they had told General Barron that they would.

Biggs was doing most of the work, while Wedge worked on some simpler parts and passed Biggs tools and occasionally helping him with more difficult things, all the while keeping an eye and an ear out for the presence he had sensed the day before.

A clicking sound alerting Wedge to someone else's presence. Turning around, he found the area around them completely empty.

"Wedge?" Biggs asked. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Wedge shook his head. "I just thought that I heard something, is all."

Wedge turned back to the parts he was screwing together, just before the sound came again, along with an echoing moaning noise. He checked around him again to find that there was definitely nothing there. The sewers created such a loud echo that the noise could have come from anywhere underneath the city, but this sound began to grow louder, becoming slightly clearer as it did.

Wedge tried to ignore the noise, but it became impossible when he heard the tapping sound erupt from right above them. He hesitated before he looked up, afraid to find out what it was that was making the noise.

He looked up at the ledge beside them and screamed.

Biggs glanced over, but was able to suppress his sudden urge to groan.

"Hello boys!" Colonel Everett said. "It's just me. There's no need to be so scared Private Wedge."

"Yes there is," Wedge muttered under his breath. "I don't want you to be here. You are a figment of my imagination."

"Is Private Wedge all right Major?" Everett asked about Wedge's sudden refusal to look him in the eye. "I didn't startle him too much did I?"

"It's just such a surprise to see you!" Biggs said, bringing out the by now overused grin he reserved for conversations with Colonel Everett. "Why have we been blessed with your presence today sir?"

"I just thought I'd come visit you while I was in town," Colonel Everett jumped down from the ledge and moved the device Biggs had been working on to and fro. "You know, this isn't quite perfect, but it will have to do. You two must be close to finished, am I correct?"

"We're a few days off sir," Wedge answered, knowing that if Biggs was to respond in any way right now it would be to injure Colonel Everett in some way. He decided to let the Major concentrate all of his energies on restraining himself.

"Oh, that's good then," Colonel Everett grinned. "I think I might stay around until it's time for me to install the control systems if you don't mind. Who knows; I might even help you install a few of the doors."

"That would be wonderful sir," Wedge replied, feeling nervous just at the prospect of having Everett around for the next couple of days. "But the doors are simple enough that one person could probably do them by themselves."

"Very well then," Everett said, rubbing his hands together with glee. "I'll get to work on one of those then, shall I?"

He grabbed a couple of the tools Biggs had been working with, jumped back onto the ledge and disappeared down the tunnel, but not without tossing a triumphant and sadistic grin back at Biggs.

"Just wait," Biggs groaned. "He's going to try and show our work up. That would piss me off as it is, but he's always grinning as though he wants nothing more in life than to spread joy and HE TOOK MY TOOLS! No, let me go Wedge! I'm going to kill him."

"Calm down sir!" Wedge said, grabbing hold of Biggs's arms lest he chase after the Colonel and do him severe injury. Biggs eventually calmed down, and slumped down onto the grubby floor with the most defeated look on his face.

"Make him go away Wedge!" Biggs cried once he judged Colonel Everett was out of earshot.

"Yes sir!" Wedge joked, saluting. "With pleasure sir!"

There was a hissing noise, followed by a very quiet moan.

"Oh shit," Wedge cursed, fearing that Colonel Everett had heard them and was now returning to chastise or discipline them. The sound stopped right above them, and Wedge peeked over to discover… nothing.

"What is it?" Biggs asked, looking up from his work. "It's not him, is it?"

"It's nothing sir," Wedge said, continuing when all he received as a response was a single eyebrow raised in a gesture of doubt. "Honestly; there's nothing up here but shadows."

The hissing sound returned, this time down with the two ICM squadron members.

"What the hell?" Biggs looked up from his work again. "Wedge; stop making that noise. I'm trying to concentrate."

"It wasn't me sir. I'm being perfectly…" Wedge was drowned out by another of the hissing sounds. The two soldiers scanned the area around them, once again coming up answerless.

"There's nothing," Wedge whispered, his voice full of fear. He involuntarily stepped closer to Biggs. The hissing noise came again, although Wedge was surprised that he could hear it over the pounding of his heart.

"Where is it…?" Biggs started, before jumping up from the ground. "Eden's arse; something just touched me!"

Wedge thought he saw something slink away, although it seemed no more than a shadow out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was just the lack of light playing tricks on him.

A couple of seconds passed, during which neither of the men were willing to make a move.

Suddenly a sharp pain registered in the back of Wedge's leg. Glancing down, he found that a deep gash had been torn in his thigh.

"Wedge…" Biggs gasped, looking a little pale at the sight of the wound.

"I didn't even see it!" Wedge cried out. "But shit did I feel it!"

Wedge cried out and dropped to his knees as his other leg was cut.

"Wedge!" Biggs screamed, rushing to the soldier's side.

A strangled cry came from no more than a foot away from them. Wedge and Biggs turned as one to face their attacker.

Wedge had been partially right when he had told his commanding officer that there was nothing but shadows with them, because that was precisely what this monster appeared to be. The only recognisable differences were that this shadow had red, piercing eyes and extremely long and sharp claws, and moved of its own accord.

Wedge and Biggs screamed, subconsciously grabbing each other as they did so. They glanced at each other, instantly coming to the conclusion that they should let go of each other and run for their lives.

Adrenaline allowed them to climb up the ledge in a single swift jump, and sprint down the tunnel. They sprinted past Colonel Everett just long enough for them to hear him say, "Why are the two of you leav…" and jumped out of the nearest manhole in what was probably a record breaking leap.

Wedge collapsed on the floor while Biggs leaned against a truck that was parked near the manhole.

Biggs took a moment to catch his breath, before he stumbled over to Wedge and collapsed in the Private's lap in a fit of hysterical giggles.

"Shit," Wedge cursed, gritting his teeth as the pain from his wounds began to resurface. "Biggs, would you please not lie there? My legs hurt."

_Be tough_, Wedge told himself as he attempted to hold back his tears.

"Sorry Wedge," Biggs said, immediately moving so that he was off Wedge.

Instinct made him move so that his arms were hovering just a little over Wedge's wounds. Unfortunately it wasn't until he was halfway through the curing spell he needed to perform that he realised this meant that certain parts of their bodies moved into very intimate positions.

No reason to back out now, Biggs figured, letting the healing spell flow through his hands and into the back of Wedge's legs. Wedge moaned a little as the pain was taken away.

"Better?" Biggs asked him, trying to concentrate on the problem at hand, rather than the fact that if he moved his leg just a little this way…

"Uh huh," Wedge said, interrupting Biggs's blissful reverie. "What the hell was that sir?"

"That is a question not nearly as important as why the two of you left your posts!" Colonel Everett barked as he emerged from the manhole behind them. Biggs suddenly found himself moving a couple of feet away from Wedge. "Desertion of your posts is a criminal offence and if we were in a state of war would be punishable by death!"

"Um…" Biggs hesitated, blushing despite himself. "How long have you been watching the two of us?" He was remotely aware that there was something about what had just happened in the ICM squadron that he wanted to keep private.

"Major, that is irrelevant!" Colonel Everett was now fuming. "Now; answer my question!"

"There was a monster sir!" Wedge said, picking himself up off the ground. "It was like something out of a horror movie sir!"

"It had already severely injured Wedge, Colonel," Biggs added. "If we had stayed he might have been killed."

"Of course there are monsters down there; bats and moths mostly! There is no reason for you to have fled from them!"

"This one was different sir," Wedge explained. "It was quiet and almost invisible in the right environment. It also had claws sharp enough to tear through armour sir!"

He turned around, showing Everett the tears in the back of his uniform and the scars on the skin underneath.

"I believe this may be the monster responsible for the attacks General Barron told us about sir," Major Biggs added.

"Well, you know what to do," Colonel Everett told them. "Go back down and get rid of it."

Wedge and Biggs looked uneasy at the prospect.

"That's an order," Everett added.

-(-0-)-

"Eep! Something just bumped into me Wedge!"

"That was me sir."

"Oh, well, that's okay then."

The sewers seemed even darker and quieter now that they knew what lurked deep inside of the tunnels. Both of the soldiers kept their swords drawn and made sure that their eyes were continually scanning the area. They also tried to keep the conversation going; just for morale, you know.

"Well, this proves something Wedge."

"What's that sir?"

"Colonel Everett and R D are all chickens. Bloody hypocrite telling us to kill it. You know he did that just so he wouldn't have to face it?"

"Of course sir," Wedge grinned, not so sure Biggs's suggestion wasn't fact.

"Sir!" Wedge finally called as they came to a crossroads. "I can hear that noise again!"

Biggs strained his ears and picked up the sound Wedge was talking about.

"Which way is it coming from?" Biggs asked.

"Left," Wedge answered. "No, wait… right. Or maybe straight ahead?"

"Damn these echoes!" the Major cursed.

"It's getting louder sir!" Wedge said, his voice becoming more and more frantic. "I think it's coming closer."

"Well, whichever direction it comes from," Biggs said, shifting to a battle stance, "we'll be ready."

Wedge looked straight ahead, focussing until he could clearly make out the shape of the shadow moving along the ground towards them.

"Its coming from straight ahead," Wedge announced.

"No it's not," Biggs objected. "It's here, coming from the right."

The two of them looked at each other, then slowly turned to glance at the shadows each other had been watching, then turned even slower to look to their left.

"Three of them?" Biggs asked, looking incredibly nervous.

"Sir, for what its worth," Wedge said, shuffling so that he and Biggs stood back to back. "It was an honour to work with you."

"Don't talk like that Wedge. We're going to get out of this," Biggs answered. "But just in case; it was an honour to have you join ICM. In fact, it was the best damn thing that's ever happened to me."

"What do we do sir?"

"Attack the one in front of us and hope that swords can actually damage it."

The two of them screamed and charged forwards. The shadow; if possible; looked confused before it was bombarded with the onslaught of Wedge and Biggs's combined swordplay.

The shadow proved to be extremely slippery. It dodged their attacks; bending and twisting around them with all the grace and elasticity of an acrobatic ribbon.

The second shadow soon joined in, opening with an attempt to tear Biggs's gut open. Wedge made a desperate lunge at the creature. His first blow made it flinch back, and the furious swipes he made at it came so quickly that the monster had no time to dodge. When Wedge eventually calmed down the creature moaned and collapsed on the floor; disappearing into nothingness.

"Well, at least we know they can be killed," Biggs said optimistically. He nodded at Wedge, then at the two remaining shadows. "Let's get them."

"Yes sir," Wedge said, striking at one of the monsters.

The two ICM squadron members focused their attacks on the shadow that had first attacked them, trying to ignore the pain as the other one scratched at any part of the body it could reach. Wedge and Biggs's first few stabs missed their target, but as soon as one of Biggs's hit home, it was only a matter of seconds before it fell.

The two men turned around just in time to sidestep a thunderbolt thrown at them by the third shadow.

"This one knows magic?" Wedge queried, before making an unsuccessful lunge at the creature.

"Watch out Wedge!" Biggs called out in light of this creature's newfound abilities. This creature seemed to better at dodging as well. There was no telling what other powers this one might possess which the others had not displayed.

One of Wedge's slashes finally hit home, but this creature was so good at dodging that Biggs's follow-up attack wasn't quick enough to get it.

Biggs stepped a couple of metres away from Wedge, so that the creature couldn't keep an eye on both of them at once. It watched Biggs closely, and dodged the Major's next attack. Wedge had guessed Biggs's strategy though, and made his attack right when the creature was dodging Biggs's blade.

The shadow twisted around to glare at Wedge, distracted by the Private long enough for Biggs to take a stab. The monster was confused now, unable to judge which way the next attack would come from. A few more slashes hit home and the creature reared right back away from them in agony.

The shadow glared at Biggs, and suddenly all the Major could feel was cold.

Wedge watched as the shadow fell to the ground, taking Major Biggs with it, but while the shadow faded, Biggs remained solid; an unavoidable reality.

"Sir!" Wedge cried, ignoring his own wounds for the time being and rushing to Biggs's side.

"Phoenix Down… Phoenix Down," Wedge muttered to himself as he searched his pockets and then the Major's for the elusive item. "Damn it, if I don't find one soon then it will be too late!"

He finally found one of the items in one of Major Biggs's back pockets. He tore the lid off with his teeth and poured the liquid over Biggs. The Major's eyes opened, and he sat up very slowly and carefully. Wedge quickly followed the Phoenix Down with a high powered potion which would get Biggs back on his feet.

"Wedge?" Biggs gasped. "Holy shit! That was a death spell, wasn't it?"

"I think so sir."

"Holy shit," Biggs repeated; this time for a different reason. He turned pale at the sight of how much blood his subordinate had lost. Wedge's armour wasn't nearly as thick as his own, so the creature's attacks had cut a lot a deeper and more frequently than when Major Biggs had been attacked.

Biggs rummaged about in his pockets and pulled out their last high powered potion and poured it on Wedge before the Private could pass out.

"We showed them sir," Wedge said.

A hissing sound erupted from behind them, and the two soldiers turned around to face one of the shadows.

"I'm sick of you lot!" Biggs yelled. He charged straight at the creature, screaming savagely as he chopped it to pieces. In a few seconds the creature was no more.

"How many of them do you think there is sir?" Wedge asked.

"Who know?" Biggs shrugged. "At least we know they're easily destroyed.

"Maybe I should start keeping guard while you continue working," Wedge suggested. "With Everett 'helping' us now we should still finish on time."

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle one of those things on your own?" Biggs looked worried at the prospect.

"You just did," Wedge said, as though that answered everything.

"Right." Biggs didn't know whether or not he should be insulted. "But this afternoon we're definitely stocking up on Phoenix Downs and potions."

-(-0-)-

"Well done ICM!" General Barron exclaimed when he came to check on their progress three days later. "And Colonel Everett of course!"

Wedge grinned as he heard the sounds of the devices they had installed whirring in the background. It hadn't been easy keeping the shadows away. He had gained a few more scars than he would have liked, and three times he had been the victim of the shadows' death magic, but the situation always ended in Biggs dropping what he was doing and rushing over to apply a Phoenix Down and a potion.

"It was no problem sir."

-(-0-)-

"Major Biggs," General Caraway greeted him coldly. "Sit down. I need to talk to you about something."

"Why have you summoned only me sir?" Biggs asked, already wary about the situation. "Shouldn't Wedge hear what you're about to tell me?"

The door was then flung open as Colonel Everett entered the room.

"Sorry I'm late sir!" he said, saluting smartly just before he parked himself in the chair Biggs had been contemplating sitting down on.

"That's quite all right Colonel," the General said calmly. "You're a busy man at the moment. In answer to your question, Major Biggs; it would be better if Wedge wasn't a part of this conversation."

This was either going to be something exciting and extremely top-secret, or very, very bad, Biggs concluded.

"Colonel Everett has brought a certain matter to my attention," the General continued, his eyes not leaving Biggs for a second.

Biggs settled on very, very bad news.

"Is this about the day we first encountered the shadows sir?" Biggs asked. "Because we really did have a just cause for surrendering…"

General Caraway silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the General said. "The problem is Wedge; or rather, how you've been treating him."

"Sir?"

"I like comradeship as much as the next person Major, but the Galbadian military does not tolerate biased favouritism!"

"With all due respect sir," Biggs objected. "How can I be practising favouritism when there's only one subordinate in my squadron?"

"You are trying my patience Major," General Caraway hissed. "Apparently you have overlooked several offences by Private Wedge which should not have been tolerated and should have been punished."

"Sir?" Biggs was genuinely confused, unable to think of anything at all that Wedge had done.

"Neglect to address senior officers as 'sir' for a start," General Caraway began. "As well as failure to answer an officer's question, and general and rather serious disrespect for senior officers."

"Sir?" Biggs was startled. "I'm Wedge's commander, and I can tell you that he's never been anything but respectful to me…"

"I count three times when he has shown disrespect to you that if he were under my command, would have been enough for me to throw him out of my squadron," Everett interrupted the Major. "I myself have also experienced Private Wedge's lawlessness first hand, and I'm sure General Barron might have noticed it as well."

Biggs stayed silent, trying to ignore what the Colonel had said.

"Maybe its just friendship blinding you to the truth Major," General Caraway suggested. "All we are suggesting is that you toughen up on Wedge. One of the responsibilities given to you as Wedge's commanding officer is to make sure that he is disciplined correctly and that he stays in line. I'm just not seeing this happening."

"Sir," Biggs began. "What would happen if I didn't?"

"Both you and Wedge would no doubt find yourselves back in my office, and depending on the severity of the problem, would probably be disciplined. The easiest and most likely solution would be to place the two of you in separate squadrons, but demotion and salary docking might not be out of the question."

General Caraway said the last two options as though they were the real threat, but it certainly didn't feel that way to Biggs.

"Punish me if it comes to it sir," Biggs requested, "because it will be my fault as a commanding officer, not Wedge's."

"Are you asking me not to split you up?" Caraway asked, grinning at the suggestion.

"Yes sir," Biggs answered. "I believe we work best when together, sir."

"All the more reason to make sure that Wedge stays in line then," Caraway said. "You're dismissed Major."

-(-0-)-

Biggs waited outside General Caraway's mansion for ten minutes, checking every few seconds for the moment when Colonel Everett would emerge from the building.

Everett finally came out; his hands folded behind his back and a rather smug expression fixed on his face. Biggs approached him; his fists clenched and a scowl on his face.

"You bastard," he told Everett, intending to confront him about the reasons behind the Colonel reporting Wedge's faults.

The Colonel however, did not seem interested in talking with Biggs, and merely shoved past him, a smile planted firmly on his face.

"I'd be careful if I was you Major," Colonel Everett said, flashing Biggs a predatory grin. "Or Private Wedge might find himself in even bigger trouble than he is now."


	5. Chapter Four

AN: Well, I know it's been a while, but here's the next chapter. Some familiar faces will be finding their way into the story now. Oh, and I now own Final Fantasy 8 and therefore, Wedge and Biggs. Yeah right. For those of you that don't recognise sarcasm when you see it, ignore this notice and refer to the one that came with the prologue.

"We do not fight for the real but for shadows we make.  
A flag is a piece of cloth and a word is a sound.  
But we make them something neither cloth nor sound,  
Totems of love and hate, black sorcery-stones."

**Stephen Vincent**

"So Biggs," Wedge said, reaching up to the sky as he stretched the muscles in his arms. "Where is ICM going today?" He tried to sound optimistic and respectful at the same time, but it obviously wasn't enough.

"You forgot to address me as 'sir' again Private," Biggs snapped, before storming over to the other side of the troop carrier, pulling the door open and jumping inside. He pulled the door shut so quickly and with so much anger that the troop carrier shook.

Wedge sighed and followed Biggs's lead, treating the truck a lot more gently as he jumped in than his commanding officer had.

Biggs had been like this for the past few days; ever since the Deling City sewer mission; and it was currently driving Wedge insane. Wedge was silent as he tried to work out whether he had done anything that might have upset the Major at all, but when no answer came to mind he was left to fume in silence.

Biggs noticed Wedge's complete lack of enthusiasm, and realised that there was no doubt that he himself was the cause of it. After a short internal debate, he gathered his courage and did the best he thought he could under the circumstances.

"We're going to Dollet," he told Wedge, the slightest twitch of a smile on Wedge's face revealing that to the Private this was good news.

Biggs started the car and began to warm up the engine, almost sad that he had to kill the small amount of happiness that news had brought Wedge.

"The Galbadian army has finally done what it's been threatening to do for the past few years. As of 1800 hours last night, we have been at war with the city state of Dollet," he explained, feeling even more horrible when Wedge visibly deflated with the news. "I'm sorry that I can't tell you what reason the government is using for the invasion. All I know is that we were summoned to Dollet this morning. It seems our role in this mission is going to be pivotal."

He paused for a second, as he began to realise exactly how hard this mission could prove to be on Private Wedge.

"We'll be fighting your countrymen," Biggs reminded Wedge. "You can take today as an unpaid holiday if you like."

"That's okay sir," Wedge said. "Dollet is no longer my home. These barracks are, and I doubt ICM will see enough of the action for me to have to worry about not hurting old friends."

"All right," Biggs nodded. "Let's get going then."

-(-0-)-

Wedge and Biggs panted as the two of them finally reached the satellite tower they had been climbing towards for the past few hours.

"Is this it sir?" Wedge asked the Major, looking up what seemed to be an impossible height to the top of the tower.

"It bloody well better be!" Major Biggs cursed.

The two of them had already climbed what seemed to be one of the most perilous mountain paths in the world. One monster had appeared after another, and while many of them were pushovers, occasionally one of them would show far more power than the others. One of these monsters had apparently already claimed the life of three Galbadian soldiers. Biggs and Wedge had been unlucky enough to have witnessed one of the incidents. It seemed that the monsters in Dollet had a tendency towards killing in the messiest way possible.

"Had you ever seen one of those things before?" Biggs asked Wedge, nursing a wounded arm.

"No sir," Wedge answered. "None of the townspeople ever come up here. There's no need to. All that's here is the satellite dish sir, and it doesn't work any more."

"I know it doesn't work Private," Biggs snapped. "Getting it up and running again just happens to be our mission."

Wedge glanced up at the enormous tower again. Spots of it were beginning to show rust, and the entire thing seemed to be covered in dust and cobwebs. He also glanced at the sky, noting that it was midafternoon; it had taken all morning just to climb the mountain.

Biggs looked around for a second, attempting to locate whoever was in charge of the area. At least the Galbadian military had already gained control of the area around the satellite dish when they had been summoned. His squadron _was_ called _In Combat_ Mechanics, but there was only so much combat he felt he could take, especially when his arm was hurt. Not to mention that their enemy could be one of Wedge's acquaintances.

Biggs spotted a man wearing the red uniform of an officer and approached him, Wedge walking in his shadow.

"ICM, reporting for duty sir!" Biggs barked.

The man glanced up from the soldier he was talking to and gave Biggs a toothy grin.

"Major Biggs!" Colonel Everett grinned. "Always a pleasure to see you, and Private Wedge of course."

Biggs really did have problems holding back a scowl this time.

"This is the satellite we're supposed to fix, Colonel?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Of course it is Major," Colonel Everett answered cheerfully. "Just enter through that door there. Inside there should be a lift. Go up the lift and you'll reach the top of the tower. The controls for the satellite dish should be in a box at the top. It should be quite easy. I've already placed all the tools you should need at the top of the tower."

Biggs nodded and moved towards the tower door.

"Oh, and Major," Everett began, stopping Biggs before he entered the tower. "I've got something to show the two of you while you're here."

Biggs scowled and turned around to face Colonel Everett.

"Remember the BGH?" Colonel Everett asked, holding up some sort of remote control. He pressed a couple of buttons on it, grinning as he did so.

A clanking noise came from behind Wedge and Biggs. They turned around to find themselves face to mechanical face with a mech that was almost as big as the BGH and far more stunning and graceful.

"Meet the BGH's little brother," Colonel Everett said, pressing a couple of buttons so that the machine's weapons rose to point at ICM squadron. "I'd have to say it's my most brilliant creation. We've affectionately come to call it 'the crab'."

The Colonel was obviously proud of his creation, and for once, Biggs had to admit that he had every right to be. The crab looked both threatening and beautiful, and if Colonel Everett's previous boasts about its speed turned out to be correct, then it was a weapon that should indeed be feared.

"It's fully automated of course," Everett told them. "And unlike the BGH it can be controlled without any personnel inside it. It's completely perfect in this respect. We can send it anywhere above land that we like and we don't have to put anyone's lives at risk, apart from our enemy's."

The grin slowly slipped from Colonel Everett's face, and he placed the remote control he was holding in Biggs's hands.

"General Barron ordered me to give you the remote control to this particular machine," Colonel Everett scowled. "He said that your part in this mission is vital, so you should have the best protection available."

"General Barron is here too sir?" Wedge asked.

"Of course he is," Colonel Everett snapped, obviously displeased at having to be parted from his beloved creation. "He's in charge of the majority of this operation. Just a reminder Major, that the crab is only to be used in emergencies. If it gets broken for something trivial, like either of your lives, then you will regret it."

Wedge stopped listening as Major Biggs and Colonel Everett began to trade subtle and perfectly calculated insults. He looked up as he heard a flapping noise somewhere around the tower. He checked the sky for monsters and found nothing, although something about the shape of the top of the tower seemed slightly different to how he remembered it. He shook his head and put it down to the fact that he had never really looked at the tower before, and returned to the conversation just in time to hear Biggs and Everett trade parting insults.

"Come on Wedge," Biggs said, stomping towards the tower.

"Yes sir."

-(-0-)-

When they reached the top of the tower, Biggs prepared his work in complete silence. There was no banter between he and Wedge; no idle chatter which would make the mission go faster.

"Sir?" Wedge asked, when the silence became too much for him. "Did I do something wrong?"

Biggs put his tools down and turned to face the Private.

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, lately you've been acting like," Wedge paused for a second. "To be honest, acting like Colonel Everett and every other commanding officer I've met so far; like an officer and not a friend."

"Wedge," Biggs hissed. "Are you suggesting that I'm not usually a good commanding officer?"

"Not at all sir," Wedge attempted to break through Biggs's current, unapproachable mood. "It's just that…"

"SILENCE WEDGE!" Biggs shouted, drowning out Wedge's protests. "Another comment like that and you'll loose your pay for this month."

"Sir?" Wedge asked weakly.

"Now be quiet and let me concentrate," Biggs said, as he opened the hatch to the satellite control system. He cursed as it was revealed to be as rusty and cobweb-covered as the rest of the tower.

"I'll stand guard then, shall I?" Wedge asked.

Biggs didn't answer, obviously too involved with the repairs to be bothered with something as trivial as a friendly gesture.

Wedge wandered over to a spot near the edge of the tower and looked out over Dollet, for the first time wishing that he had stayed in this peaceful little town, never to go to Galbadia Garden or to sign up for the Galbadian army.

A clanking noise came from the direction of the lift, bringing Wedge out of his reverie, as three soldiers reached the top of the tower. Wedge walked over to them and saluted. The other squadron quickly saluted in response.

"Wedge wasn't it?" an excited voice asked.

"Yes? Can I be of assistance?" he asked the soldier in front, not daring to wonder how it was that this man knew his name.

"It's me!" the soldier announced, abandoning his salute in favour of grabbing Wedge in a hug. "Private Tavis! Remember me from the Deling City sewer mission?"

"Yes, of course!" Wedge said. He remembered the name, but was surprised that Tavis thought he knew Wedge enough for the Private to be greeted with a hug.

"Although it's Corporal Tavis now!" Tavis continued, flashing a new badge on his uniform at Wedge. "I've even got a small command for this mission!" he added, nodding at the two rather nervous looking soldiers standing behind him.

"Sir," one of the soldiers said, coughing nervously, "shouldn't we give him the report?"

"Of course Private," Tavis said, nodding in gratitude at the soldier. "Private Wedge, a few of the men have reported seeing a strange shape on top of this tower. Some of the men think it might be a monster. You should look out for it."

"Thankyou, sir," Wedge said, thinking of the shape he thought he had seen while he was at the bottom of the tower. "I'll keep that in mind."

Tavis leaned in closer to Wedge and inspected his face.

"What?" Wedge asked, leaning away from him.

"You're not nearly as happy as you were the last time I talked to you Private," Tavis said. "Something's up, and I order you to tell me what it is." Tavis shook his finger at Wedge like a mother scolding a child.

Wedge sighed, Tavis's concern bringing a small and melancholy smile to his face.

"It's Major Biggs," he said quietly. "I don't even know what I've done wrong, but he's just been so angry with me lately."

"Aw…" Tavis sounded genuinely sorry. The Corporal momentarily stopped their conversation and began walking backwards and forwards across the top of the tower. Tavis finally returned to the lift, and as he shook his head, turned to Wedge with a genuinely sad frown on his face.

"I can't think of anything you could do," Tavis sighed. "I'm sorry that I can't help you more. Don't worry though; I'm sure it will pass." Tavis turned back to pull the lever which would send both he and his command back down to the bottom of the tower.

"Good luck to the both of you!" he called as the lift disappeared from sight.

"And to you!" Wedge called.

-(-0-)-

"Sir?" one of Tavis's subordinate's asked on the way down. "Request permission to ask who that soldier was sir."

"That was Private Wedge," Tavis said, as though the name itself answered everything. "I've worked with him once before. Poor thing; I think he and the Major are having their first lover's tiff."

"Sir?" one of the subordinates asked, sounding slightly worried.

The three of them stepped off the lift. Tavis however, didn't have enough time to explain to the two Privates before they were attacked by an unexpected force of SeeDs.

-(-0-)-

"Major Biggs!" Wedge said, approaching his commanding officer with some caution, but also knowing that the Major should really hear what he had to report, especially considering how powerful some of the other monsters in the area had proved to be. "There have been reports of a huge shadow moving around on top of the tower! Some of the men think it might be a monster..."

_He's going to hate me for breaking his concentration,_ Wedge thought, knowing that Biggs's reply would be something that involved either snapping or yelling at him.

Biggs remained silent, concentrating on the task at hand.

"Major Biggs!" Wedge said again.

"Be quiet Wedge!" Biggs barked in reply, completely ignoring what Wedge had said. "I'm busy!"

_Why are you acting like this sir?_ Wedge wondered, watching the Major as he worked. _Even the way you're working isn't usual. Why aren't you talking to me? Why aren't you enjoying working? Why are you acting like every other damn officer in the army? If I wanted a commanding officer who acted like a cold bastard then I would have joined Colonel Everett._

"This goes like this, and ...Geez, what's with these old crappy tools?" Biggs cursed, throwing one of the tools Everett had supplied for them. "And, and - Why do I have to make all the repairs!" Biggs muttered while he worked.

_Because we're ICM,_ Wedge thought sadly. _Isn't that what we do? But then, you never wanted to be a part of this squadron, did you? Did you dream of joining General Barron's elite squadron as well? I doubt it. You never really wanted to be a part of the army either._

Wedge sighed and moved away from the Major and his work.

"Uh, sir," he began, still unsure whether even the smallest comment would earn him a chastising from Major Biggs. "I'll check around while the repairs are being done."

He wandered over to the edge of the tower and sat down, preferring to loose himself in thought than stay here with Major Biggs while he was acting so out of character.

_Did you even have a dream like mine? _Wedge wondered. _Or did your father squash that?_

He tried to keep his thoughts on anything but why Biggs was acting the way he was, and failed.

_What did I do wrong?_

-(-0-)-

Meanwhile, Biggs continued on his work, part of him glad that the mission was turning out to be as easy as Colonel Everett had suggested; the other part too busy hating himself for acting so callously towards Wedge. All of him, however, was cursing Colonel Everett, calling the man every name under the sun. He tried to shake off his hatred, and concentrated on the repairs in front of him; relishing the realisation that the mechanics were almost done.

"Let's see... hmmm..." Biggs muttered to himself as he worked; anything to keep his mind off his current conundrum with Wedge and Everett. "Put this here, and..."

Unbeknownst to Biggs, at this exact moment the lift pulled up behind him, bringing with it the SeeDs that had taken care of Private Tavis and the other soldiers down below.

"There," Biggs said triumphantly. "It's done!"

The tower suddenly came to life. Lights blinked on and off, and mechanics began to whir, causing the entire tower to shake. Several of the tools Everett had provided fell through holes in the grated steel floor, but Biggs couldn't notice. The change in front of them was far too spectacular.

Parts of the tower began to spread out slightly, leaving room for some sort of massive contraption to rise out from the middle. It grew taller, then suddenly shot out many arms, which spread around to form a massive circular shape. The entire disc then curved in on itself, creating a fully working satellite tower.

-(-0-)-

Wedge stared in awe as the transformation began. He went to stand up, but a particularly strong vibration caused him to fall back over. He had just enough time to realise how close he was to the edge of the tower before he began to fall. He reached out just in time to grab hold of the edge with one hand.

Wedge looked down at the sea, so far below him that it made him dizzy just to look. He threw up his other arm, attempting to grab hold of the edge with it as well, but the steel was too slippery and his hand slipped. He cursed, and tried again.

-(-0-)-

Biggs stood back and looked at his work with no small amount of pride. The transformation had been quite stunning.

He was interrupted from his thoughts as someone behind him called out.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"HUH?" Biggs said, turning around to find the source of the voice.

In front of him stood three SeeD cadets. The one in front; the one that had spoken to him, sported brown hair down to his shoulders, a scowl, and a fresh looking scar across his forehead. One of the others was also male, but rather short. This one had a large black facial tattoo and blonde hair that was spiked up at the front, making him look rather like a chicken. The last was the shortest of the three, female, and looked far too friendly and bubbly to belong to a military organisation such as Garden.

"Likewise, mister!" Biggs retorted, addressing the brunette male, who was obviously the unofficial leader of the group. "What do you think you're doing?"

Biggs glanced down through the grated floor, wondering how the three SeeD cadets had found their way into the tower. Weren't General Barron's elite squadron and Colonel Everett supposed to be protecting them? Then again, the last time Major Biggs had been informed, Garden weren't supposed to be a part of the operation.

"Hey! What happened to all the soldiers down below?" he commented, still surprised that three kids such as these could have taken out some of the best of the Galbadian military.

The three SeeDs shifted to a pose suitable for battle. The brunette male whipped out a gunblade, which was already stained with blood. The blonde punched his hands as though revving himself for a fight. Biggs only now realised that they were covered in metal studded fighter's gloves. The girl twirled a pair of nunchakus about.

"WEDGE!" Biggs called, knowing that he'd need backup for this fight. "Take care of these twerps!"

No-one answered. There was no sudden surprise attack as their usually was; no Wedge coming to his commanding officer's defence.

Biggs felt nervous in a way he never had before a battle.

"Wedge?" Biggs called again, hoping against hope for an answer. Wedge couldn't be gone, could he?

-(-0-)-

Wedge looked down once more, the long drop suddenly seeming awfully tempting. He had screwed up somewhere along the line, hadn't he? And it was going to be awfully difficult to pull himself up. Why not just let go?

Biggs called out for Wedge, and all thoughts of letting go fled from Wedge's mind. Biggs needed him, and who was he if he didn't come to his commanding officer's aid, even if Biggs had been acting like a complete bastard of late.

He attempted to pull himself up with all of his strength. He successfully got the top half of his torso back on top of the metal grate, when he slipped and fell back once more. Biggs needed him; he was reminded as he heard Biggs call out his name again. He panted a little, and focussed all of his strength on pulling himself back up.

-(-0-)-

Wedge still hadn't come to his aid, and that fact in itself was even scarier than the prospect of facing these three SeeDs on his own. Biggs looked around nervously, hoping that the Private would show up. His wish was not to be fulfilled.

"Well... I, uh..." he muttered, searching for some other way out of the situation. He would have to worry about Wedge later. "I seem to be done here so I'll just be on my…"

Biggs felt his foot hit something on the ground. He glanced down for a second, and what he saw brought a smile to his face. He flicked the object up with the back of his heel and brought it around into his arms, pointing the newfound gun at the three SeeDs.

"I'm leaving!" he said, waving the gun at the SeeDs threateningly as he made his way to the lift. All he had to do was get to the lift then he would be free. "Move it! Move! Move!" he said, moving the SeeDs away from the lift with a few waves of his new weapon.

He was almost at the lift when something knocked the gun out of his hands.

Looking behind him Biggs saw that another SeeD had just come from the lift, except that this one didn't wear a uniform, opting instead to wear a long flowing cream-coloured jacket and tight navy shirt. His blonde hair was cut short in a military style crew-cut similar to Wedge's. He sported a gunblade and a scar similar to the brunette SeeD. It was obviously the gunblade that had knocked Biggs's own weapon from his hands.

"Sorry to crash the party," the newly arrived SeeD said smugly.

"AHH!" Biggs cried as pain flared in his wrist. He looked down to discover that the man's gunblade had also cut through his armour and the skin underneath. "Are you CRAZY!"

Biggs felt like screaming. All he had wanted to do was escape, but this newcomer seemed intent on making even that much difficult for him.

"Just shut up," the blonde snapped, "Galbadian scum."

"SCUM!" Biggs cried. He wouldn't have minded so much if the blonde had insulted the Galbadian military under other circumstances, but Biggs was in a bad enough mood as it was, and the blonde's insult only worsened it. "You're gonna pay for that!" Biggs yelled. "Prepare for the worst, you little brats!"

Biggs reached down and grabbed his sword, bringing it up to defend just in time. The brunette SeeD with the scar lunged forwards, swinging it past Biggs's defences to cut at his armour. The girl joined in, whacking Biggs across the side with her nunchakus. The shorter blonde added a couple of punches. The taller blonde seemed content to just lean against the wall and watch as his comrades overpowered Major Biggs.

The Major struck out blindly with his sword, hurting whoever was in range. The girl flinched back a couple of times, but the smaller blonde cast some healing magic on her before Biggs could do any serious damage.

Biggs pulled out of the fray, running a little way away from the SeeD cadets so that he could catch his breath. They began to advance on him again, and he was just about to give up hope of winning this particular battle when he heard a familiar voice beside him.

"Have you finished the repairs, sir?" Wedge asked, sounding a little out of breath. He jumped back when he noticed the three SeeD cadets advancing on them. "What is the enemy doing here?" he screamed, wondering how anyone had managed to reach the top of the tower while General Barron's elite squadron were supposed to be guarding the bottom.

"WEDGE!" Biggs screamed, his heart doing strange, relieved flip-flops at the sight of the Private. Damn Wedge had scared him by not appearing until that instant! He knew he shouldn't have felt anything but relieved, but his mood only served to make him angry at the Private. "Where were you!" Biggs yelled, annoyed that Wedge had waited so long to show up, and annoyed that he should find himself so worried about Wedge's fate.

_Hang on a second_, Biggs thought. _Wasn't he supposed to be guarding? You were supposed to be guarding me Wedge! Why did you disappear? Why weren't you here, where you're supposed to be!_

"No pay for you this month!" he growled, partially because of Colonel Everett's threats, and partially because he really was angry at the Private.

"...Should've stayed home!" Wedge sighed, remembering Biggs's suggestion of taking the day off. It certainly would have saved a lot of heartache, and a lot of money.

The SeeDs looked from one Galbadian to the other, before continuing to attack Biggs. Wedge tried his best to retaliate, but it simply wasn't enough against the three SeeDs. Not to mention that the large blonde one was still leaning against the wall, watching the fight with amusement.

Suddenly a large gust of wind blew onto the tower, picking Wedge and Biggs up off the ground. They both screamed as they were picked up and blown about as though they weighed no more than a couple of pieces of paper. Looking down they saw the tower growing farther and farther away, before the wind stopped and they were thrown carelessly to the ground.

The dark shadow that had been lurking on top of the tower then moved, flapping enormous wings behind it. The wind blew up again, and it became clear that the powerful gusts were the creature's creation.

The monster was huge, and looked something like a man crossed with a bat. Its eyes flashed a deep and menacing red, while the rest of it seemed to pulse with a purple that looked highly unnatural to Biggs's eyes. He began to wish that he had never taken this mission.

Biggs watched helplessly as the monster and the SeeDs engaged in battle. He tried to think positively; no matter who won he and Wedge would have lost themselves an enemy. Although there wasn't much chance of them fighting back against the victor now. He tried to move, the pain in his body stopping him from doing anything more than moving his head for the time being. Glancing over he found that Wedge was unconscious and bleeding pretty badly. He glanced down at his own body to find that something was definitely not sitting right. Were his legs even supposed to bend that way?

A scream came from the direction of the fight, and Biggs looked over to discover that the SeeDs had actually managed to defeat the monster. It dropped to the ground in a tangled heap, and then faded quickly, leaving no proof at all that it had ever been there.

The female SeeD ran over to the large blonde with a spring in her step. Biggs listened in to their conversation.

"Squad B captain?" the girl asked, saluting the blonde. "S'cuse me! I have new orders! All SeeD members and SeeD candidates are to withdraw at 1900 hours. Assemble at the shore!"

"_Withdraw_!" the blonde said, not sounding at all happy with the orders. "But there are enemies still around!"

_Withdraw, withdraw_, Biggs pleaded. _Leave us in peace_.

"I know, but I'm just a messenger," the girl replied.

"An order to withdraw takes priority," the brunette man joined in, his voice sounding almost emotionless. "I don't want to miss the vessel."

The four of them began to converse for a little while longer. Biggs lay back and attempted to relax for a little while, waiting until the SeeD cadets had disappeared before he tried to move. It was then that something caught his eye. Laying just a little way away from him was the remote for the crab. It wouldn't save them, but at least it would be revenge. He for one wanted the SeeDs to pay for what they had done.

He waited a little while longer, as first the larger blonde, and then the other three disappeared down the lift, and then made his first attempt to move. It hurt more than he had expected, but he managed to crawl over to the remote in one quick burst of speed. He picked it up and entered a few commands, trying to ignore the pain that was now flaring throughout his entire body.

"Those little twerps are the targets," he said, pressing the buttons to specify heat and enemy seeking and chase until destroyed settings. "Now go and DESTROY THEM!" Biggs cried, before the pain overtook him and he collapsed, the remote tumbling out of his hand.

-(-0-)-

Biggs didn't know whether or not the crab failed or succeeded in its mission to exterminate the SeeD cadets. He did, however, hear that a rather crablike hunk of metal was found on the beach a few hours later, shot to pieces by something probably resembling a machine gun. He also heard that Colonel Everett was distraught at its destruction. Biggs was almost glad that they had lost the crab, if only for that reason.

When Biggs came to, the first thing that registered was the overwhelming pain in the back of his skull. The second thing was the soft whimpers of pain that Wedge was letting out while he was unconscious.

"Don't worry Wedge," Biggs said, rummaging around in his pockets for healing potions for the both of them. He applied Wedge's first without even thinking about it.

"Hey Wedge," Biggs said, as the Private's eyes fluttered open. Biggs sat next to Wedge on the ground, stroking the Private's forehead lightly, also without thinking about it.

"Biggs," Wedge whispered, taking in the sight of the Major smiling genuinely for the first time in days with some shock. "What happened? Where did the SeeDs go?"

"That is precisely what I would like to know Major!" Colonel Everett said, appearing from the lift behind them. "It should have been up to the two of you to follow those pests and stop them!"

"Here we go," Biggs hissed.

"We've spent the last little while unconscious," Wedge snapped. "Sir."

"I sent the crab out after them," Biggs said, "Right before I passed out from the pain sir."

"You failed," the Colonel hissed. "Because of your incompetence the enemy now has vital information about our plans! Not only that, but the two of you just addressed me in a manner that was completely unacceptable! I shall see that General Caraway demotes the both of you!"

"Sir," Wedge hesitated.

"What?" Everett practically screamed.

"I'm only a Private. There's nothing below that, so I can't really be demoted."

"Well," Everett hissed. "You can bask in the knowledge that it was partially your fault that your beloved Major shall now be a Lieutenant!"

"Lieutenant Biggs," the Major-turned-Lieutenant tried out his new rank. "I don't mind the sound of that actually."

"Colonel Everett can be a real snake when he wants to, can't he Biggs?" Wedge began to relax a little too much.

"That's next month's pay as well, Private."

Wedge stopped himself from groaning just in time. For just a minute it had seemed that he had the old Biggs back. He had no such luck.


	6. Chapter Five

AN: Hi. Good to see you're still reading. To be honest I don't really have anything to say in this chapter, apart from the fact that I'm not Squaresoft, so I unfortunately don't own Wedge and Biggs. It would be nice if I did though.

"Three things are known only in three places; valour, which knows itself only in war; wisdom, only in anger; and friendship, only in need."

**Emerson**

Wedge looked across the table at his commanding officer. The two of them were dressed in casual clothes, as there was no need for ICM to wear uniforms during the long and many hours that they spent by themselves. Breakfast, along with any other meal the two of them shared seemed awkward these days. Neither of them spoke, and the clink of bowls and cutlery against an otherwise silent background were beginning to drive Wedge slowly insane.

An envelope sat in the middle of the table, as yet unopened, although both men were fairly sure that they knew what it contained.

When the silence grew to be too much, Biggs finally sighed, grabbed the envelope and tore it open. He scanned through it quickly and then threw it back down on the table in disgust.

"It's official," he said. "I'm now Lieutenant Biggs."

"I'm sorry sir," Wedge said, placing his spoon in his bowl. Suddenly, breakfast didn't seem so appealing.

"Don't be," Biggs said, staying just long enough to finish his breakfast and dump his bowl and spoon in the sink before walking out the front door.

Wedge took one look at his own, now unattractive breakfast, threw it in the bin and followed Biggs outside.

His commanding officer was simply standing there, gazing out at the horizon. A heavy wind served to blow his unruly hair over his face, whipping it around him like some sort of shroud.

Biggs didn't even look up as Wedge approached him, but somehow he knew instinctively that Wedge was there.

"I should be the one that's sorry Wedge," he told the Private. "I wish I could tell you why, but I can't. Damn do I hate that son of a bitch."

Wedge wished he could ask Biggs who he hated and why, but knew he couldn't. If the Major could or should ever tell him, then he would be grateful. Until then, there was no use worrying about things that he couldn't fix.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Wedge asked, just in case.

Biggs smiled a little then.

"I'm afraid not Wedge," Biggs answered. "Just; please don't give me or anyone else any excuse to give you trouble, all right?"

Wedge nodded and stared out at the expanse of the desert, wondering if he was staring at the same spot as Major Biggs; the spot where the ground and the horizon seemed to mesh, forming some unreachable place that no-one could ever travel to; a destination that no-one could ever touch.

"You know," Biggs started, kicking the dusty ground beneath them with some annoyance. "I don't hate you."

He glanced at Wedge, making sure the Private was listening.

"Just in case you ever think that I might; I really don't."

"I know," Wedge answered.

Biggs gave Wedge a strange sort of half-smile and returned to staring at the distance.

"Major Biggs," Wedge began. "Have you ever worked with anyone else?"

"Never," came Biggs's answer. "Not since training at least."

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if neither of us had signed up for the army?" Wedge grinned at the thought. "Maybe we would have ended up working together back at Garden as well."

"That's a nice thought," Biggs said. "Unfortunately, we're here, and you forgot to address me as sir again. That will have to be another paycheque Private."

"Fine sir," Wedge sighed, turning to go back into the building. "It's not as though I've got anything to spend it on anyway."

Biggs tried to ignore the sound of the door slamming shut behind him and failed.

He dropped to his knees and screamed, part of him glad that there was no-one apart from Wedge to hear him, although the other part of him wished that Colonel Everett was there to hear it, because Biggs knew that the next time he saw the Colonel, Everett would die.

-(-0-)-

Days at ICM headquarters passed slowly, and with nothing to do, and only a little space between the two soldiers the situation began to grow too awkward for either of them to handle.

Biggs attempted to start conversations with Wedge. He was aching to have a friendly conversation with the Private, but every time he began, Wedge found a way to politely end the conversation as quickly as possible. Biggs couldn't blame him. Biggs knew that if Wedge slipped up while they were talking he would have to chastise or punish the Private again, even though he didn't want to.

If Everett sensed that they were still friendly next time he saw them then he would undoubtedly do his best to change that, probably by throwing Wedge into some hellhole of a squadron even worse that ICM. That was something Biggs knew he didn't want, even more than he didn't want this silence between the two of them to last.

_Just wait_, he told himself._ Soon Colonel Everett will be killed in action or will find someone else to pick on, and then you can apologise to Wedge and pretend nothing has happened._

_Yeah right._

Eventually a day came when another envelope arrived at ICM headquarters, this one announcing that Wedge and Biggs were to report to the D district prison.

"A summons for ICM sir?" Wedge asked as he read the letter.

"No," Biggs answered, shaking his head. "Remember how I told you I used to do odd jobs when ICM wasn't needed. This is one of those. They need extra people at the D district jail, so for the next couple of weeks, you and I will be serving as jail guards."

-(-0-)-

Wedge shoved the suitcase that carried his meagre belongings into the back of the troop carrier. He looked back and gave ICM headquarters one last, forlorn glance before hopping into the passenger seat beside Biggs.

The Lieutenant started the car wordlessly, and the two of them set out on what quickly began to prove itself as the quietest and most unenthusiastic journey the two of them ever had been on, and probably ever would be on.

Biggs cursed and swore as one of their tyres was punctured by a rock that was half buried in the desert sand.

"Should I stand guard against monsters, sir?" Wedge asked as an angry Biggs jumped out of the vehicle.

"I'm sure I'll be just fine!" Biggs barked, grabbing their only spare tyre from the back.

Wedge waited in the vehicle as various clangs and curses came from Biggs while he was working. A growling sound came, followed by a very Biggs-like scream. Wedge poked his head out of the side of the troop carrier to find Biggs wrestling with a wendigo, a rather strong and humanlike monster.

Biggs yelled at the beast and brought out his gun, sending a volley into the creature before Wedge could even get out of the car. The wendigo collapsed onto the floor in a heap.

Biggs brought his arm closer to his face to discover what looked to be a twisted joint.

"Is everything all right sir?" Wedge asked.

"Damn it!" Biggs cursed. "No Wedge, everything is not bloody all right! Where the hell were you when that thing attacked me?"

"You told me I didn't need to stand guard!" Wedge yelled back.

"Yeah; well you should have taken initiative!" Biggs yelled. "Or something!" he added; his argument losing all credibility.

"Yeah?" Wedge retorted. "Well maybe there's a certain Lieutenant around here that should pull his head in and stop acting like such a bastard!" Wedge was vaguely aware that the argument was no longer about the wendigo. "I try my hardest to be everything you want me to be, and all I get is my pay taken away. Damn it; if I had known that you were going to change so much then I would have signed up with Colonel Everett. At least then I would have known where I stand!"

Wedge braced himself for Biggs to tell him that he'd lost himself another month's pay, but the Lieutenant didn't say a word. Instead he hopped back into the car and slowly closed the door behind him.

"Sir?" Wedge asked, realising that maybe he had pushed the Major a little too far.

Biggs rested his head against the steering wheel for a second, barely moving except to breathe. Wedge shouldn't have been able to chastise him like that, Biggs realised. A good commander wouldn't have allowed it, but to Biggs it cut like a knife, Wedge's words cutting too accurately and too deeply, so that all Biggs could do was surrender.

"Do you have a potion of any sort on you Private?" Biggs asked just when Wedge was beginning to wonder if the Lieutenant had passed out or fallen asleep.

Wedge opened the glove box and pulled out the item Biggs had requested.

"Thank you," Biggs said, pouring the potion onto his wounded arm, remembering a time not so long ago when Wedge would have done a lot more than simply handing him the potion.

Biggs started the car up again, once again bringing silence to the interior of the vehicle. After a few minutes the silence grew to be too much.

"Sir," Wedge began, intending to apologise. "Sir, I'm sor…"

Biggs raised a hand to silence him.

"Please don't Wedge," Biggs said. "It will only make it harder later on."

-(-0-)-

Wedge sat up in his seat a little as Biggs announced that they were coming close to where the prison was supposed to be located. He scanned around the area, looking for any sign of a building. It was rumoured to be the largest state prison in Galbadia, but Biggs couldn't see any sign of it.

"Um…" Wedge hesitated. "Sir, where is it?"

He was silenced as a large rumbling sound came from beneath and around them. The sand beneath them began to shake.

"What's happening sir?" Wedge asked, looking over at Biggs for some explanation, but the Lieutenant seemed as lost as he was.

"Get out of the car Wedge," Biggs ordered.

The Private followed his command and leapt out of the door, falling over almost immediately as the shaking of the ground made him overbalance.

The two of them watched in awe as three towers began to emerge around them, connected at a couple of levels by walkways, giving the prison a plan view that looked like an almost perfect triangle. The towers began to grow taller and taller, until they towered over the two soldiers.

"Do you think we just found the jail sir?" Wedge asked, spitting some sand out of his mouth.

"I hope so," Biggs said. "Otherwise I don't have a bloody clue what this place is."

"It's a rather brilliant idea though, wouldn't you say sir?" Wedge nervously attempted some conversation. His legs still felt as though they were shaking beneath him. "If the jail stays under the sand for most of the time then none of the prisoners can escape very easily."

"Bloody brilliant Wedge," Biggs's answer came quietly. "Did I ever tell you that I'm claustrophobic?"

"Yes, it is rather brilliant, isn't it?" a voice called out from behind them. "But you'll get bloody sick of the place after a couple of hours!"

"No shit," Biggs muttered.

Biggs and Wedge turned around to see the source of the voice. A soldier emerged from the bottom of one of the towers and walked towards them.

"I'm Corporal Jonstan," the man said, extending a hand to each of them. "Major Travesti is the commanding officer here, but unfortunately he's too busy to welcome the two of you. We've recently lost a few of our men in Dollet and Timber, which is why we've requested the assistance of the two of you. It's actually pretty quiet as far as prisoners are concerned at the moment. It seems the world is behaving itself for once."

Wedge grimaced as Jonstan shook his hand. Although he couldn't see his eyes, there was something about this man that he was disinclined to trust.

"Follow me," Jonstan told them, "and I'll show you around the place."

-(-0-)-

It turned out that there wasn't exactly much to show. One level of the jail was pretty much like the others; cold, grey and lifeless. What few prisoners there were seemed pretty quiet, barely warranting the presence of any guards at all. From what Jonstan told them the worst any of them had done was steal a couple of thousand dollars.

"The prisoners are kept mostly in solitary confinement, with no contact with any of the other cells," Jonstan explained. "The cell doors only open from the outside, unless you've got a key, and there are no windows or openings that the prisoners can sneak out of, so the place is pretty much secure. Besides, in the unlikely event that a prisoner broke out of his cell, where would the bastard go, right?"

Jonstan sniggered.

"You'll have to find ways to entertain yourselves while you're here," he told them. "At the moment there's just the three of us, Major Travesti and twelve others. We've also got quite a few mechs and stuff. Some of them don't work though, so maybe you two could amuse yourself with fixing them, ay?"

"Sure," Biggs said gruffly, not sounding at all as though he liked the idea.

"And last but not least," Jonstan said, pushing open two of the heavy metal doors that seemed to make up most of the building. "This is where you'll be living over the next little while. You two can fight over who gets which room."

Wedge glanced in at both of the rooms. As far as he could tell, both of the rooms seemed little more than cells themselves. They contained a small bed and a very small dressing table, and no windows.

Wedge spared a thought for the claustrophobic Biggs, before entering the room closest to him and dumping his bag on the bed. Behind him, Biggs groaned and muttered something, and entered his own room, slamming the door behind him.

-(-0-)-

Wedge smiled and thanked the Private that handed him the envelope, wondering what could possibly be in it. There was only one solution that he could think of, and glancing at the flowing writing on the front of the envelope, he realised that his solution was the correct one.

He sat down on his bed, fingering the letter and wondering whether or not he should open it. He had so far spent two days in the prison, and they were proving to be as dull and uneventful as he could have imagined. Biggs was proving to be unbearable as well. The Lieutenant was becoming so volatile and unpredictable that Wedge used every excuse he could to avoid him. It was a difficult task however, as Biggs seemed to want to spend time with him, even though he acted no friendlier towards the Private than he had before.

Wedge smiled as he looked at the letter once more, deciding that this dull day needed a little colour in it. He tore open the top of the envelope, and pulled out the couple of sheets of paper that were folded quite neatly inside of it.

_To my dear big brother Wedge_, the note began.

Wedge smiled to himself as he read through his sister Tina's letter. It was nice to be reminded of home, he thought, especially when he was feeling so lost. Even though he hadn't heard from any other member of his family since he had announced that he was joining the military, his sister Tina had kept a constant supply of correspondence flowing to the training barracks.

He checked the date at the top of the letter, realising that this one had taken a fair while to catch up with him. He remembered that the last time he had sent Tina a letter was when he had just been accepted into ICM. So much had changed since then, and he realised exactly how much when he read the kind words in the letter.

_It is good to know that you are enjoying yourself,_ the letter read. _I always pictured you in the elite squadron or something similar. You seemed so eager to do your bit. As long as you are happy in ICM though; that's the main thing; and you sound pretty happy to me._

_How is your Major Biggs?_

_**My** Major Biggs? _Wedge wondered with a grin, before reading on.

_I have a sneaking suspicion that he is the real reason you signed up for ICM. I'm right, aren't I? You have to tell me whether I'm right or not or I'll track you down and tell this Major Biggs that you're a nasty perverted stalker and then you'll have to find someone else to obsess over._

Wedge laughed at his sister's wording and curious sense of humour. He realised for a second that she was probably the only person that could make a joke like that about him and get away with it, especially when his relationship with Biggs was so tense.

_Don't give me that look!_ the letter continued. _The entirety of your last letter was practically just you raving about how cool this guy was! I'll have to meet him one of these days, you know._

_As for your questions, Darren and I are doing quite fine at the moment._

Wedge's mood grew more serious as the topic of his sister's boyfriend came up. The two of them seemed to be madly in love one moment and busy trying to kill each other the next. He had tried to convince Tina to leave Darren several times, but the poor girl seemed too hung up on him to do anything.

_He just bought me a nice new diamond ring, although I was disappointed to find that there wasn't a proposal to go with it._

_Mum and Dad are doing fine, although it's quite plain for anyone to see that they both really miss having you around the place. I tried to tell them that disowning you was a completely stupid idea, but they're too stubborn to listen to me._

_Say 'hi' to Major Biggs for me!_

_-Tina-_

Wedge grinned and placed the letter down on the dressing table, rummaging through his suitcase for anything resembling paper and a pen, before finally coming across an old, worn-out notebook and tearing a few pages out of it.

He thought for a minute, wondering if it was at all possible to write a letter to his sister that would let her think he was as happy as he should be and still tell the truth. Maybe; if he wanted the letter to be two lines long.

He flexed his fingers, sighed, and began to write.

_Dear Tina_, he began, scanning his sister's letter again to see which point he should address first. He began to wonder if this letter would be edited. Galbadia wasn't technically at war, but with all the dramas around lately then it wasn't worth taking the risk.

_I've met General Barron,_ he grinned as he wrote, still not sure whether he should risk getting in trouble by calling one of the Galbadian military's heroes a tosser. _He's not everything you would expect him to be._ He decided on the diplomatic approach. _It seems that one of his subordinates is becoming a friend_, Wedge added, thinking of how excited Tavis had been the last time he had seen him. For a moment he wondered if the Corporal had survived the SeeD's carnage. He hoped so. Tavis seemed like that rare sort of person that was genuinely nice, and didn't expect anything from anyone in return for his kindness. A treasure like that was too rare to lose.

He turned back to the letter, wondering how he should address the next point.

_Biggs is…_ Wedge hesitated for a moment, realising he hadn't included his commanding officer's rank. Just as well. Maybe this was a good place to start on the topic of Biggs.

_Biggs is no longer a Major,_ he finished writing. _I don't know why I'm even telling you this considering it will probably be edited out anyway (too much information that I could be passing on to the enemy, you know?) but Biggs was demoted to Lieutenant._

_I suppose if you asked him at the moment then he'd tell you he's okay, but I think he'd be lying. He's been acting strange lately; almost as if he doesn't want me in the squadron any more. He keeps punishing me for things he didn't even notice before, and treating me as just a subordinate, instead of the friend I thought he wanted me to be. It's difficult; especially when he still wants to spend time around me regardless._

_Not only that, but with no work at the moment, we've been temporarily transferred to D district prison, so you'll have to send all correspondence here. It's a horrible place, with no windows, it's dark and cramped, and Biggs is claustrophobic._

He tactfully avoided mentioning Tina's boyfriend. It was impossible to predict what would happen there. _Let sleeping dogs lie_, he thought.

_I suppose I don't have much to complain about_, Wedge wrote with a smile on his face. _Aren't I supposed to be living my dream here? Keep in touch._

_Your brother Wedge._

The door swung open as he finished writing to reveal a tired looking Biggs as he entered the room and sat himself down on Wedge's bed.

"Hey Wedge," he said unenthusiastically.

"Hello sir," Wedge said, making sure that his voice was completely emotionless and respectful.

Biggs glanced over at the pieces of paper spread on Wedge's bed.

"It's a letter from my sister, sir," Wedge answered Biggs's question before he could ask it. "She's the only member of my family that keeps in touch with me any more. She says 'hi' by the way."

"She knows about me?" Biggs asked; leaning closer to try and read the letter that Wedge had just finished writing. Wedge subtly turned it so that Biggs couldn't read what he had just written about the Lieutenant.

"Of course I told her about my commanding officer sir," Wedge explained.

"Oh." Biggs sounded disappointed.

"Am I acting like a bastard Wedge?"

"Is there a polite way for me to answer that sir?"

Biggs sighed and got to his feet.

"I'm going to go spend some time working on those broken mechs," he told Wedge. "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

He reached the door and then turned back to look Wedge.

"Tell your sister I said 'hi' back," Biggs added before leaving.

_P.S._ Wedge wrote at the bottom of the letter. _Biggs says 'hi' back._

-(-0-)-

_Eden's arse, it's boring here_, Wedge mentally cursed as he stalked the hallways during one of his shifts. _If only there was some colour in here! Anything! It's sending me crazy._

As if in answer to his prayers, a dash of red appeared in the hallway in front of him. It moved away again just as quickly as it had appeared; not giving Wedge enough time to work out what it was. His curiosity piqued, Wedge walked over to where he had seen it, and peaked behind one of the prison doors to find a small, red, furry, lion-like creature; in short, a Moomba.

Wedge had seen one or two of them hanging around Dollet, but overall they were fairly rare and shy creatures.

The Moomba squealed as it saw Wedge looking at it. It looked left and right for a while as if trying to find a way out, before realising it was trapped and slumping as if in disappointment.

"It's okay," Wedge told it, reaching out a hand. "I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

The Moomba looked doubtfully at Wedge's outstretched palm before squealing again. It reached a paw up to Wedge's hand and gave the man a small high-five.

"What are you doing in here little fella?" Wedge asked it. The Moomba held up a spanner and pointed to a broken air conditioning unit on the wall. It let out a couple of squeaks which Wedge supposed probably meant something in Moomba language and began working on fixing the unit frantically, as if trying to prove to Wedge that it was doing what it had been told to.

"You're doing a good job," Wedge told it. "So you work here huh?"

The Moomba shrugged.

"Let me guess," Wedge sighed. "The soldiers make you do work?" That would make sense considering the Moomba's reactions so far.

The Moomba nodded, and squeaked and squealed for a while as it worked. From its actions Wedge managed to gather that several of the other soldiers treated the Moomba quite badly if it didn't do exactly what it was told.

"I know what that feels like," Wedge said, thinking of the way Biggs had been acting. "Although I guess your situation is much worse. Have you got any friends to turn to?"

The Moomba pointed to itself, and then began to count on its claws.

"One… two…" Wedge counted along with it. "Thirteen other Moombas? In this building?"

The Moomba nodded and squeaked again.

"I wonder why I haven't seen them," Wedge thought aloud.

The Moomba began a sneaking motion, before clinging to the wall in a strange sort of charade. It then covered its eyes.

"Oh," Wedge said, finally understanding what the Moomba was trying to tell him. "You're supposed to stay out of sight."

The Moomba made a happy sort of growling sound, which Wedge supposed meant 'yes'. Wedge stared at the Moomba's brightly coloured coat, the reds giving him an idea.

"I know," he said. The Moomba looked up at him from the work he was doing. "Dammit, I'll make him so proud that he won't be able to act like a bastard anymore."

The Moomba looked confused.

"I've never been able to master magic before," Wedge explained. "I'm going to learn how to do some spells properly. He should be happy with me then."

The Moomba nodded as though it knew exactly what Wedge was talking about and turned back to its work.

Wedge concentrated, trying to remember everything both Biggs and Garden had taught him about magic. He concentrated on the sword in his hands, which contained the necessary energies needed to perform fire, ice, lightning and curing spells. He focussed on the fire energy, trying to bring it out of the sword and cast it on a spot on the wall. He felt it coming. He unleashed the energy.

It should have worked.

It didn't.

The Moomba shook its head and walked over to Wedge. It moved Wedge's hands around little bit by little bit until he was holding the sword in a completely different manner.

"I don't think that's going to make much difference," Wedge told the creature. It shrugged. "The real concentration is supposed to come from your mind."

"Mmnnnooooooogh!" the Moomba squealed. It pressed a hand to its chest then thumped it as if to indicate the heart.

"The real concentration is supposed to come from the heart?" Wedge asked it, surprised when it nodded. "So I'm supposed to do what; feel the energy more? Want it more?"

The Moomba nodded to both. It then launched into a long and rather squeaky explanation, of which Wedge couldn't understand a single word or concept it was trying to teach him.

"Okay," Wedge said once the creature had finished. He turned back to the spot on the wall and focussed once more, remembering what the creature had told him. Hey, it couldn't hurt, right?

He went to perform another fire spell, but the Moomba stopped him before he could finish.

"Mnooogh!" it cried again, pointing to itself. It shook its head and then pointed at Wedge.

"What?" Wedge asked it.

"Mnogh," the Moomba moved in a rather abstract way, vaguely like fire. Then it pointed at Wedge and nodded.

"Not fire?" Wedge asked. "What then?"

The Moomba walked straight up to him and pointed to a lighter patch on his armour.

"Ice?" Wedge asked. "Why; because it's closer to me?"

The Moomba nodded.

"All right," Wedge said, concentrating once more.

He dug deep into the weapon's energies once more, searching for the ice spell amongst everything else. He felt it, and knew it would be easier to pull this magic out. He flung it against the wall, feeling the energy pull at him like none of the other magics he had attempted before. He closed his eyes as the ice spell launched. When he opened them again there was a rather frosty looking patch on the wall.

"I did it!" Wedge cried out. "I actually did it!"

The Moomba grinned and pointed to its head before patting the area on its chest above the heart once more. It then pointed at Wedge and proceeded to mimic Wedge performing the ice and fire spells again and again.

"Remember," Wedge translated. "Concentrate with your heart and…" it took him a couple of minutes to work out what the Moomba was trying to tell him. "Practice?" Wedge laughed. "I sure will. Thank you."

The Moomba squealed happily.

"Are you finished yet?" Jonstan yelled as he poked his head around the corner of the door.

The Moomba cowered and hastily moved back to repairing the air conditioning unit.

"Well why not!" Jonstan roared.

"Sorry sir!" Wedge barked, saluting the Corporal. "That's my fault sir. I distracted him."

Jonstan looked up as if noticing the Private for the first time.

"Oh," he grinned at Wedge. "I didn't realise you were here Wedge. Well then, if the little beast misbehaves then you'll tell me right?"

"Of course sir!" Wedge saluted once more.

The Corporal grinned and disappeared from sight. The Moomba looked up at Wedge with a rather forlorn expression on its face.

"Don't worry," Wedge told it. "I know he only wants to know so that he can have somebody to pick on." Wedge ruffled the Moomba's hair to receive a delighted squeak from the creature. "I knew there was something I didn't like about him. What's say you and I be friends then?"

The Moomba squealed happily.

-(-0-)-

Wedge found that as soon as he had befriended one of the Moombas, he had befriended all of them. Whenever he saw one of them now (which was quite often now that he knew to look out for them) they would grin and let out a delighted squeak. He found a lot of time in which to practice his magic, and soon he found that he could perform both fire and ice spells quite accurately.

Apart from that though, there wasn't much to do, and the days at D district prison seemed to pass even slower than the ones at ICM headquarters. By the time Wedge had spent four days there, it had felt like four years. Biggs was getting more and more unbearable each day, to the point that Wedge would have felt like strangling the man, if the Major still didn't demand a little of Wedge's sympathies.

Then, just as Wedge thought he was going to go completely mad from boredom, a parade for the Sorceress Edea was announced in Deling City. For a while it gave everyone something to talk about, and then the real excitement came.

There was an attempt on the Sorceress Edea's life, and four SeeDs were brought to the prison. One of them had been taken away for private questioning (torture, Wedge realised with a shock) by the Sorceress's knight and protector (both Wedge and Biggs thought he looked pretty familiar, but neither of them were game to say anything) and the other three were placed in one of the lower cells together.

It wasn't long before several complaints came about the three prisoners. It seemed that one of them had stood up to Corporal Jonstan in defence of one of Wedge's friend Moombas, a feat which earned him Jonstan's ever-lasting hatred, and Wedge's respect. It seemed that Major Travesti wanted nothing to do with the four of them, and so Corporal Jonstan's next choice was Lieutenant Biggs.

"And I was just thinking," the Corporal whined to the Lieutenant, "that you could get down there and show them a thing or two about why you don't mess with the Galbadian army and all of that."

"Why don't you?" Biggs asked the snivelling Corporal.

"Well… I… Err…" Jonstan seemed lost for words. "I just noticed that you've been spending so much time in the gym with the punching bag lately that I thought you might want to vent a little frustration."

"On the prisoners?" Wedge asked doubtfully.

"Well… I…" Jonstan stammered. "They deserve it. They tried to kill Sorceress Edea after all."

For a moment Wedge wondered if maybe that was such a bad thing. He hadn't heard much about the famed Sorceress, but what little had reached his ears had chilled him to the core. It was rumoured that she killed President Deling in front of the whole of Deling City last night and no-one had even objected. Wedge found that hard to believe, but still, she sounded like the sort of person that you didn't mess with, lest she mess back.

"Fine," Biggs said, shaking his head. "We'll go and attend to these prisoners for you, seeing as how you're too much of a bloody coward to do it yourself!"

Wedge felt like applauding his commander. He had felt like saying the same thing, and probably would have if it hadn't been for the difference between his and Jonstan's rank.

They followed Jonstan to the level on which the prisoners were located. On the way Wedge was sure he heard something; rather like the scuffles and clangs that came when there was a fight happening.

"Did you hear that sir?" he asked Biggs.

Biggs ears seemed to prick up.

"Hear what?"

Wedge listened for the sound again, only to realise that it had indeed disappeared.

"I thought I heard… never mind," Wedge said before Biggs could yell at him again.

They eventually reached the cell that the SeeDs were located in.

"This is the cell with the prisoners in sir," Jonstan told Biggs.

The Lieutenant cracked his knuckles, obviously ready for a fight. Wedge wanted to blame all of Biggs's enthusiasm on the fact that they had been cramped up in the building for too long, but he wasn't sure if this wasn't just the real Biggs showing through.

"Should we be picking on prisoners so soon after getting transferred here?" Wedge asked the Lieutenant, afraid that Biggs might take the fight too far. The last thing he wanted was for Biggs to become a monster like Corporal Jonstan.

"Just be quiet," Biggs said, pushing past Wedge, "and let me handle this!"

Jonstan entered the cell first, followed by Biggs, and Wedge, who trying to keep as close as possible to his commanding officer in case of trouble.

"T-These are the prisoners, Lieutenant Biggs, Private Wedge," Jonstan announced, not sounding at all secure in the presence of the prisoners.

Wedge couldn't blame him. These SeeDs looked all too familiar. Biggs approached the prisoners and began inspecting them before the same thought occurred to him. Suddenly Wedge realised where it was he had seen them.

The Lieutenant froze as he realised exactly who he was looking at.

"AAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Biggs, Wedge and two of the SeeDs screamed all at once.

Wedge stared at the two SeeDs, trying to tell himself that two of the prisoners weren't who he thought they were, but there was no mistaking the tribal tattoo of the short blonde and the energy and crazy hair of the girl from the Dollet mission. Now however they were in more casual clothes. The girl wore a short yellow dress that would have been slightly pornographic were it any higher, and the blonde wore baggy blue pants, a black punk t-shirt and a red vest. With them was a tall, blonde woman in pink and orange.

Biggs and the blonde SeeD began a staring contest. It seemed that neither of them trusted the other enough to let the other leave their sight for a moment.

"S-So we meet again!" Biggs tried to sound brave and failed miserably. "Now we'll teach you the lesson we should have taught you earlier!"

Biggs folded his arms, probably looking a great deal more enthusiastic than he was feeling. After all, these two along with their friend had taken care of some of the best men in the Galbadian military.

Wedge readied himself. Now that they knew who the SeeDs were, it seemed extremely unlikely that they were going to get out of this alive, let alone without a fight.

"I know it might seem cowardly to fight unarmed prisoners…" Biggs began. "…But I hope you appreciate our position. Hey it's a dog eat do…"

The girl in yellow pulled out her nunchakus, the blonde woman pulled out a whip and snapped it angrily, and the man punched his fists together as if ready for the upcoming battle. Biggs froze as he took account of the deadly weapons right in front of him.

Jonstan screamed in the background, quickly fleeing from the cell in fright. Wedge wasn't at all surprised.

"Uh, they're fully armed, sir…" he unnecessarily commented from sheer nervousness. This was going to be a battle that Wedge wouldn't forget quickly.

"W-WHAT?" Biggs yelled; seeming to finally come out of the shock he had fallen into at the sight of the three SeeDs. "H-Ho-How…?"

_Little SeeD punks… _Biggs cursed the three of them in his mind, for just a moment wishing that he had stayed at Garden. He glanced towards the door, wondering if it would be easier to try and escape. Then again, ICM had only ever run from a fight once before, and they weren't going to start a reputation for cowardice now.

"Ahh, hell with it!" Biggs said, moving to a battle stance. "Let's go, Wedge!"

Biggs glared at the man in front of him.

"I was demoted because of you!" he screamed at the SeeD. "I'm only a lieutenant now! I'll get my revenge!"

Wedge could tell that the Lieutenant was frustrated by the way that he was acting and the furious way he began to fight. It seemed as though he attacked the three SeeDs indimiscrimantly, striking out at whoever was in his range.

Wedge tried to concentrate on the blonde woman, only to find that she was incredibly good at dodging his attacks.

Wedge cursed at ICM's combined lack of success. Coming to a decision he took a couple of moments to silently thank his friend Moomba for tutoring him. Wedge concentrated hard and brought an ice spell to the surface, accurately plunging the effect of the spell around the blonde woman.

"Woo hoo!" he yelled as the woman flinched back slightly. The spell had obviously stung. He glanced over at Biggs to see if his commanding officer had noticed the progress he had made with magic, but the Lieutenant seemed to be too absorbed in trying to defeat the male SeeD.

"Aah!" Wedge screamed as he felt the girl's nunchakus connect with the back of his head. He turned around and aimed a strike straight at the girl's stomach, but she jumped back and his sword barely scraped her dress.

The two women quickly responded to their new-found advantage over him, and it wasn't long before all Wedge could do was strike out helplessly as the two of them hit him over and over again, both of them successfully dodging any attempt he made at retaliation.

"Sorry sir," Wedge called quietly as he fell to the ground. "I tried…"

-(-0-)-

Biggs didn't even notice that Wedge had fallen until a good deal later, when the two women decided to join in the one on one battle between the two men.

"Wedge?" he called, glancing to the side to see his subordinate lying on the floor. For a moment time stopped, Biggs's heart leaping into his throat as he feared for Wedge's life. Anger took over and he knew then more than ever that these SeeDs were going to die.

"You'll pay for that!" he screamed, charging at the SeeDs in a frenzy. He sliced backwards and forwards, now concentrating on the blonde woman. He thought that maybe he had worn the woman down when a roaring sound came from above him.

The room seemed to go dark, and the three SeeDs disappeared from in front of him to be replaced with a large goat-like man. Fire seemed to burn all around the creature.

_A GF!_ Biggs realised with a start. He had heard of these mythical creatures while studying at Garden. When summoned they wielded far more magic and power than a human ever could. Biggs stared in horror as the creature leapt into the sky and seemed to summon an enormous ball of lava from apparently thin air. It screamed and threw the ball straight down at Biggs.

The lieutenant saw the fireball coming for him, and then all that registered was pain. He looked in front of him to see the SeeDs reappear before him. Oh ho ho, was Everett going to love it when he found out about this little misdemeanour.

"Uh…" he winced as the pain overwhelmed him in seemingly every muscle of the body. "What's below lieutenant…?" he asked no-one as he fell to the ground.

-(-0-)-

Wedge woke up to find that the whole tower was shaking. He realised with a start that the towers must have been in the process of submerging again. That could only mean one thing; that the SeeDs had breached nearly every layer of their defence and all that was left to the Galbadians was this one last desperate manoeuvre.

_Oh well,_ he thought as he applied a potion to himself. _It's not as though we can do anything now; and no-one can say that we didn't do our best._

His gaze drifted over to lifeless form of his commander. Biggs lay on the floor a little way away from him, and if it wasn't for the slight movement of Biggs's chest as he drew breath, Wedge probably would have thought the Lieutenant dead.

_Then again_, Wedge thought sombrely,_ in the Galbadian army your best is never quite good enough, is it?_

A rather unscathed Colonel Jonstan poked his head around the corner of the cell door.

"Is everything all right?" he asked Wedge.

"Oh, everything's just fine," Wedge joked. "The SeeDs have only broken out and Biggs is nearly dead." He sighed and shook his head, before turning to Biggs and applying a Phoenix Down and a curing spell.

"Thanks Wedge," Biggs murmured, getting to his feet a little unsteadily. "Now where did those brats disappear to?"

"They're outside of the complex sir," Wedge answered. "We failed."

Biggs merely laughed.

"I'm sure Everett will be delighted to know that I now get to be dropped down another rank," Biggs said with a grin that looked completely out of place on his face. "I'm sure he will be ecstatic!"

"Do you really think they'll demote you for this sir?" Wedge asked, a small trace of fear flowing into his voice.

"Everett would have me demoted for sneezing if he could Wedge," Biggs said rather angrily. "In fact, he would have me court marshalled and shot for treason if he could figure out a way to do it."

-(-0-)-

Biggs was certainly right about one thing. A week after Major Travesti and Corporal Jonstan had filed a report, with very little help from Wedge and Biggs, even though the pair had seen the most action, a letter arrived announcing that Biggs had been demoted again.

"Well then Sergeant Biggs!" Jonstan grinned sadistically as Biggs told everyone. "It seems that you can't be bossing as many people around anymore!"

Biggs threw the letter down in disgust and stormed towards the gym once more. It seemed as though the punching bag was about to get a pretty thorough work-out.


	7. Chapter Six

AN: Sorry this has taken a while guys. Thanks once again to everyone who everyone who reads and enjoys this story. You give my life meaning. Oh, and if anyone is willing to bet what might happen after this chapter, go right ahead. I'm curious to know if anyone will be able to work it out.

"A man's name, title and rank are artificial and impermanent;

They do nothing to reveal what he really is, even to himself."

**Jean Giradoux**

Wedge and Biggs ended up spending over a month in the miserable company of Corporal Jonstan and the rest of the prison, and while Wedge had his Moomba friends (although it seemed that a couple of them had used the disappearance of the SeeDs as a chance to make their own break for freedom) it seemed that all Biggs had was the worn out punching bag. Wedge peeked in to the gym one day to find that the bag now appeared a great deal tattier than it had been when they had first come to the prison.

They barely heard any news from the outside world, apart from the letters Wedge received from his sister. From what little Tina told him Wedge received the distinct impression that the outside world was as much in tatters as the prison punching bag. It seemed that the Sorceress crises had only gotten worse since the SeeD's breakout. It was hard to know which rumours he should believe and which he should discount as fiction, but if Wedge was to believe all the news that reached his ears then Trabia Garden had been completely destroyed; different factions of the Garden organisation had begun fighting each other to the death and rather disturbing rumours of Garden's origin were coming to light. It seemed that Wedge's old educational institution was going through some trying times, as was the country he was currently fighting for. The man that had been in charge of the prison for a short while, an eighteen year old by the name of Seifer Almasy, had taken control of Galbadia now that President Deling was dead. Wedge was shocked when he reported these rumours to the authorities at the prison, only to be told that every single one of them was true to some extent.

Eventually a time came when they were called upon for more important work. Two letters arrived at the same day. One requested ICM's assistance in a project in the legendary country of Esthar. The other requested assistance for the same mission, but this one called for recruits to become foot soldiers in a bid to take over some sort of structure that Esthar currently had under its control.

"This is ridiculous," Biggs said. "Everyone knows that the continent of Esthar is just a myth."

"Try telling them that," Wedge said to the Sergeant.

"Another month's pay Private," Biggs said, apparently not even needing to think about it any more.

Wedge cursed himself for forgetting the Sergeant's honorific and walked out of the room. He walked down the hallway and almost; quite literally, ran into another familiar looking officer.

"Wedge?" Tavis asked, looking just as surprised by the meeting as Wedge was. "ByEdenitsgreattotseeyou!" Tavis said, pulling Wedge into a hug and forgetting to breathe between words in the process. "I thought that maybe those Dollet bastards had gotten you."

Wedge managed to forgive Tavis for insulting his countrymen.

"I feared the same thing about you," he told the Corporal. "What in Hyne's name are you doing here?"

"Recruiting!" Tavis answered merrily. "Elite Squadron needs a lot of help with a massive project we're about to launch in Esthar."

"We got the letter about it this morning," Wedge told him. "What was it called again?"

"The Lunatic Pandora mission," Tavis answered with a quick salute. "Ask someone else what that's supposed to mean, because I don't know anything except that we're trying to steal something called the Lunatic Pandora away from the people of Esthar. Here are a couple of forms in case you and the Major want to sign up for it."

"He's a Sergeant now," Wedge sighed. "And I'm not sure whether Biggs will want to sign up for anything I'm involved in."

"What on earth do you mean?" Tavis asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"It's a long story," Wedge answered. "And I don't think you'll want to hear it."

"No, tell me," Tavis pressed gently. "I'm here if you ever want someone to talk to. You shouldn't have to carry burdens like this all by yourself."

"In that case sir," Wedge said, remembering his friend's rank. "With all due respect, I'm not sure I want to talk about it."

-(-0-)-

Biggs kicked the punching bag, imagining the look that would form on Colonel Everett's face if it was his stomach that Biggs's foot was connecting with instead of the broken pile of leather and cotton wadding. Oooh, that was a good image, and one that Biggs had found himself imagining many a time over the last few weeks.

One day he would get the Colonel back for all that he had done. One day, he would stare down at the Colonel and laugh, but for now he had to put up with Everett's pathetic mind games. He had been forced to punish Wedge again, and it was something he didn't like doing at all. It was either that or lose contact with Wedge completely, and the second idea was a concept he didn't even want to think about as being a real possibility.

Wedge appeared at the doorway with a strange sort of half-smile on his face.

"I'm ready to leave for Esthar when you are sir," Wedge told his commanding officer.

Biggs wiped some sweat off his brow and nodded, wondering why Wedge's behaviour seemed a little off to him. No matter. He would have plenty of time to discover it later.

-(-0-)-

The journey to Esthar had been a mostly silent one, and after three different vehicles and just as many days both Wedge and Biggs were more than ready to hop out of the car. For Wedge it was difficult to put his feet onto the rocky ground beneath and fully acknowledge that they had finally reached the end of their journey.

He could feel the wind howling around him, and wished he could take his helmet off and let his hair blow around for a bit in the breeze, but no doubt it would be seen as a negative action in his commanding officer's eyes, and that wouldn't do. There would be no mistakes this morning. This morning his behaviour would be perfect.

Wedge and Biggs looked out over Esthar, both of them feeling pretty melancholy. The place was bigger than either of them could have imagined, and Wedge was pretty sure he should feel some sort of respectful awe at his first sight of the country, but all he could feel was an awkward disappointment.

"So Private," Biggs said, scanning the city and quickly taking in all the chaos. "Where do you think we're supposed to sign in?"

"I don't know where you are supposed to sign in sir," Wedge admitted, getting a rather clueless look from the Sergeant. He took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. This was the moment he had been both dreading and waiting for over the past few days, and it was far too late to turn back now.

"But I'm supposed to report there," Wedge finished, gesturing to the enormous pillar which floated over the middle of the city. There was only one thing the pillar could be, and that was the Lunatic Pandora he had heard so much about.

"What on earth are you talking about Wedge?" Biggs asked, not understanding nor wanting to understand what the Private was hinting at, just in case the hidden meaning behind Wedge's words proved to be what he was fearing it might.

Wedge turned and looked straight at the Sergeant, giving him a sad look that clearly said 'sorry' and 'farewell' in the one expression.

"I applied for a transfer to the Lunatic Pandora mission," he explained, attempting to smile at the man that used to be his squadron leader. "I'm no longer a part of ICM."

-(-0-)-

"What the fuck do you want from me!" Biggs yelled as he stormed into Colonel Everett's temporary Esthar office a few hours later. He threw his arms down on the Colonel's desk, causing the paperwork Everett was attempting to finish to jump beneath his hands, the pen leaving a long black scrawl on the white paper.

"And what is it that finally prompted you to ask that question Sergeant?" the Colonel asked, looking rather smug about the situation. He picked up the piece of paper he had been writing on, scrunched it up into a ball and threw it in the bin, before turning his attention completely to the thoroughly pissed off Biggs in front of him.

Biggs waited silently as the paper received its inevitable fate, before he answered the Colonel's question.

"Wedge quit ICM."

"Really?" the Colonel said, although he seemed anything but surprised by the news. "I wonder why that was."

"You know damned well why," Biggs said, leaning on Colonel Everett's desk in a manner he hoped the Colonel found threatening. "Now answer my damned question. What do you want?"

The Colonel laughed a light, cheery laugh that grated on every one of Biggs's nerves and actually managed to make him hate the Colonel even more than he already did. Everett leaned back in his chair and away from Biggs's menacing arms and stared at the ceiling as though thinking the question over.

"I want your job," he finally told Biggs.

"MY JOB!" Biggs laughed. "Fine, have it. I quit. I'm joining the Lunatic Pandora mission anyway."

"I'd rethink the way you're addressing me Sergeant," Colonel Everett growled. Maybe it was just Biggs's current mood skewing his perception, but the Colonel seemed a little put out that Biggs's reaction to the Colonel taking his job hadn't been more substantial. "You'll lose next month's pay for that."

"Screw you," Biggs replied over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

"That's another month's pay and I'll see you demoted! You'll be a Private by the time you reach the Lunatic Pandora!"

Biggs threw Everett a gesture involving a solitary finger over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Three months pay!" Everett called after him, but Biggs couldn't be bothered listening. Everett had already done the worst he could do.

-(-0-)-

Wedge sighed and glanced over at the man he had found himself on guard duty beside. He had gathered that the soldier was a Private like himself, but he hadn't even given Wedge a name. The shift had been so quiet and so dull and the other Private didn't seem to want to start even the smallest of conversations. When Wedge had joined the mission he had thought that he would be able to spend some time with Corporal Tavis, but he hadn't seen or heard from the Corporal since he had met him at D district prison.

Wedge would have given anything to have the idle chatter he used to share with Biggs back. Even though he was almost sure he had made the right decision, he missed Biggs dreadfully. He might have even settled for the Biggs that acted like all the other officers. At least he was kind occasionally. The man standing next to him now seemed to have all the personality of a statue.

"Your shift's over right about now, right Private?" a voice called from just behind them. A soldier in the red uniform of an officer strolled over to the other soldier, chatted quietly to the other man for a bit, and then the colourless Private walked away.

There was no mistaking the voice or the exaggerated gait of the man now standing next to Wedge.

"Sergeant?" Wedge asked, involuntarily shrinking in defence against whatever harsh words Biggs would snap at him.

"Not any more. Private, the same as you."

Things were silent between the two of them. Wedge searched for something to say in the awkwardness. So many questions needed to be asked, but a part of him was still afraid to ask them because of what Biggs might say.

"You know something," Biggs sighed, stretching his arms out in front of him. "I thought being a Private might be a little worse than an officer, but I'm so glad I'm a Private right now. It just gets rid of all the stress. I don't know how I ever coped as a Major."

Wedge looked over at the smiling man, unable to believe that this was really Biggs standing beside him. He couldn't find the right words to say; there were just too many of them, and in all honesty he didn't have a clue whether he was supposed to be happy, disappointed, or just completely pissed off at the ex-Major.

For a few minutes they just stood there; Biggs not quite comfortable with starting conversation yet; Wedge unable to find the right words to express the thousands of thoughts that were flying around his mind at that point in time.

And then the silence was shattered as a large red spaceship crashed into the wall of the Lunatic Pandora right in front of their eyes. There was supposed to be a nearly unbreakable shield around the outside of the structure. Apparently the ship's occupants either didn't realise it, or had used an incredible amount of force to break through it.

Wedge and Biggs watched in horror as the bottom hatch of the ship opened up, and a group of rather familiar looking SeeDs clambered out and began to make their way towards the two Privates. Neither of them would ever forget the blonde with the tattoo, or the girl with the nunchakus, or any other member of this group of SeeDs that seemed to have had a mission that involved making Wedge and Biggs's lives as difficult as possible over the last few weeks.

Biggs took a quick survey of the scars that his last couple of encounters with this particular group had left him with, and made a decision.

"Screw this Wedge," he said, turning to leave before the SeeDs could recognise the two of them. "I quit."

Wedge took one last look at the ship and the SeeDs that were rapidly drawing closer, and began to follow Biggs.

"Come on Wedge!" Biggs laughed, strolling off quite casually. "I'm going to buy you a drink."

Wedge was momentarily shocked to hear the familiar words that he had missed so much. Could this possibly mean that the old Biggs was finally back?

"Me too sir?" Wedge asked, trying to curb his enthusiasm in case his suspicions were proved wrong, and forgetting that he didn't have to call Biggs sir anymore in the process.

Biggs didn't snap, or yell, or do anything to say that he was anything but happy with the Private. Instead, he just nodded and smiled at his fellow soldier.

Wedge grinned and ran to catch up with Biggs. It soon hit that following Biggs would mean quitting the army along with him. Oh well, it wasn't as if the prospect of staying with Galbadia was looking like a good one, especially when he knew that he could no longer keep Biggs as his commanding officer.

"What about our salary sir?" Wedge asked as the idea hit home.

"Well I'm not getting paid for at least the next three months," Biggs answered. "Are you?"

Wedge couldn't help but smile. The old Biggs was definitely back, hopefully this time, to stay. The two of them left the area they had been guarding, leaving a rather confused group of SeeDs behind them.

"Now," Biggs said, looking from left to right. "How do we get out of this thing?"

"My bet," Wedge said, quickly reviewing their alternatives, "is to get out via parachute. The paratroops are located just a couple of levels above this, and there are so many of them that they shouldn't even notice the two of us sneaking out."

"How do we get to the paratroopers without being stopped and questioned though?"

"Easy!" Wedge said. "Just look like we know where we're going. As far as everyone knows, we're both still ICM right? All we have to do is say that a group of soldiers down in Esthar requested our help and that should take us all the way to the part where we jump off this thing."

"Jump off it?" Biggs looked queasy.

"Well, that's what parachuting is, after all sir," Wedge retorted, laughing slightly.

"Right," Biggs rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well then, lead the way Private. I'm right behind you."

"Sure thing sir."

"You don't have to call me sir anymore you know."

"I know sir."

"And Everett's in charge of ICM now."

Wedge froze in place.

"WHAT?" Wedge screamed. "How could you let that bastard take over our squadron?"

"Well," Biggs hesitated.

There were two ways he could handle this, he realised. The first would be to tell Wedge that Everett had been behind every misunderstanding and awkward moment the two of them had shared over the past few weeks, but that would require too much explanation. One thing would lead to another, and another, and suddenly Wedge would be asking Biggs why the thought of the two of them being separated was such a horrible one, and that was a question Biggs really didn't want to answer just yet. How could he possibly tell Wedge how much the younger man was beginning to mean to him?

The other solution was to tell Wedge a partial truth. It wasn't a lie exactly; there were very few situations in which Biggs would lie to Wedge. Biggs settled for this second option. Things would be far less complicated this way.

"Everett would have ruined our lives," Biggs eventually told Wedge.

"It looks like he's doing that anyway sir," Wedge joked.

"No!" Biggs said, being deliberately over-the-top. "This way it's us that are screwing up our own lives. You see, it's much more dignified that way."

"Sure thing sir," Wedge laughed.

He was surprised to find that despite the fact that they were about to embark on one of the most dangerous escape efforts ever attempted by a couple of deserters, he was near delirious with joy. He still wasn't sure that Biggs wouldn't just turn around and snap at him, and had been given no reason as to why Biggs had been so angry lately, but did that really matter? Biggs was here, beside him, the two of them now just average citizens, and Wedge had a feeling it was partially because of their friendship. Wasn't that proof enough that Biggs cared for him?

It was odd really, he thought, and it didn't make any sense whatsoever, but whether he was working literally knee-deep in shit, or trying to desert the army without being killed, he was only really happy when Biggs was by his side, smiling and joking the whole way.

He grinned as he led Biggs down the brightly coloured hallways of the Lunatic Pandora taking one turn and then another, before he suddenly realised that he had never before in his life seen the hallway he was currently leading them down. He was sure of it. He stopped still, almost causing Biggs to run into his back.

"What is it Wedge?" Biggs asked.

"I think maybe we missed a turn back there," Wedge said.

"What? Are we lost Wedge?"

"Not exactly. I just don't know the exact way to get to the parachute hanger from here."

"Yeap. Admit it Wedge. You're lost," Biggs said, sounding far too cheery for the current situation.

"Don't worry," Wedge said, turning around to go back the way they came. At least, that's what he thought they were going to do. Right behind them were two tunnels going back in almost the same direction.

"Eheh," Biggs's laugh didn't sound like it came from someone that found the current situation humorous.

"Which way?" Wedge asked no-one in particular.

"Left," Biggs sounded fairly sure of himself. Wedge raised an eyebrow in doubt. "Well, no-one else would have chosen left. You would have gone right, right? And then we would have been lost in here forever, so stop looking at me like that."

Wedge sighed, shrugged, and went left. They followed the tunnel for a couple of minutes, glad when the surrounding area began to look familiar. Then they turned a corner and nearly jumped out of their skin.

Biggs screamed in a rather un-masculine way and jumped behind Wedge.

"Was that there before?" Biggs asked him.

"I don't know," Wedge said. "Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. There are so many of these things hanging around this place since the Lunar Cry."

"You mean you've fought one of these things before?" Biggs sounded completely petrified.

"Yeah," Wedge shrugged. "They're complete pushovers."

"They certainly don't look it," Biggs shivered.

The monster standing in front of them was a few feet taller than the two of them, not including its horns, and that was while it was standing on all fours. Its skin was a bright purple, and its mane was bright orange. To Biggs it didn't look like anything that should have existed outside a nightmare.

The monster roared as it spotted the two of them, blinked at them for a few moments, and then proceeded to tap its foot against the ground as though it was getting ready to charge.

Wedge drew his sword and beckoned at the creature, as though daring it to attack.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" Biggs asked, hesitantly drawing his own sword.

The creature charged towards them, looking as though it was about ready to tear their stomachs apart. Wedge stood his ground though, Biggs standing beside him in a remarkable show of trust.

The two teams clashed; and Wedge and Biggs found themselves flying across the room and against the wall. Biggs was sure he felt a couple of his ribs snap.

"Pushover huh?" Biggs laughed, attempting to sit up and failing miserably.

Wedge rubbed his head. "I've never heard of one of them doing this before. Maybe this one is different, like the shadows remember? Some of them were more powerful than others."

"Wedge," Biggs gasped. "I can't get up."

The creature stomped its foot again and snorted, looking like it was ready for another attack. Wedge stumbled to his feet and stepped right in front of Biggs, protecting him from the creature. It charged again, and the force of its charge threw Wedge back against Biggs, causing both of them to scream in pain as their injured bodies hit one another.

"Sorry sir," Wedge gasped.

"Didn't think it would come to this," Biggs said, almost laughing despite the situation. "I've survived who knows how many stupid missions for the army, and I die because of a monster that's supposed to be a pushover."

"Sorry for that too sir," Wedge added. "And for leading you into this mess in the first place. Shouldn't have gotten lost."

"It's not your fault," Biggs assured him. The creature snorted again and threw its head backwards and forwards as though it was gearing itself up for another attack. "I shouldn't have told you to go left, and Colonel Everett shouldn't have been so horrible to us. Well, at least we beat him in the end, right?"

Wedge wasn't sure what Biggs was talking about, but smiled anyway. The creature charged at them once again, coming so close to the two of them that they could reach out and touch its horns.

Then everything went crazy.

As far as Wedge could remember it began with a bright flash, and before long he and Biggs found themselves falling along with the monster that had attacked them.

Biggs attempted to move over in mid air to grab hold of Wedge's hand, but failed. The creature let out a petrified roar, and then the three were completely separated.

Unbeknownst to Wedge, Biggs or the behemoth, while they were wandering around laughing and getting completely lost, a few levels above them a couple of the most historically important battles in the war were being fought by a sorceress and a knight, and some very familiar looking SeeDs. What they were experiencing now was called time compression, a means for the SeeDs to travel forward in time and stop a sorceress from causing the end of all existence. But that story is for another time. For now, let us concentrate on our own hero's travels through time and space. (Oh, and in case you're wondering, the behemoth was never seen again. In truth it found itself back on a rather nice and pleasant part of the moon from which it originally came, and lived out a long and peaceful life.)

As for Wedge, he opened his eyes to find himself staring into a mixture of incredibly bright lights and a dark, deep background, almost as if he was on a stage. He looked down to discover an electric guitar in his hands, and a designer jacket on his body. He was on stage, and he was performing! He looked ahead of him to see someone's back. They had a ponytail, and were holding a microphone. His first thought was Biggs, but this person's hair was a lighter colour, although it was impossible to tell the exact shade from all the coloured lights. They also didn't sing like Biggs. If Biggs's voice was a clap of thunder, then this was the roaring of rain that accompanied it, and somehow, it was just as good. If it wasn't for his attachment to Biggs, Wedge probably would have admitted that it was better.

Wedge was almost tempted to call out to the stranger in front of him, but soon he felt himself falling again. The scenery seemed almost to smudge itself across his eyes. He closed them, unable to take the sensation any longer. Soon the falling sensation stopped, to be replaced with absolute pleasure, and the feeling of skin on skin. He gasped and opened his eyes just in time to receive a glance of his apparent lover, not enough to identify them, but just enough to tease him, before the scene changed again, and he was once again faced with the horrible falling sensation.

This time when he dared to open his eyes again he found soft sand under his feet, a beautiful ocean standing in front of him, and an even more beautiful sunset beyond that. He felt a hand grasp his, and he went to look over, hoping to discover some clue as to what everything meant, but the scene changed once more, right before he had a chance to look at the person's face.

The falling sensation finally stopped. Wedge kept his eyes shut this time, fearing that he would only see another teasing hint of a reality. He was confused enough as it was. This time however, he only felt the solid and reassuring coldness of a cobbled street beneath him. This time there was no spinning or falling sensation.

He very, very slowly opened both of his eyes and looked around him.

"Wedge?" a croaking voice called from just beside him.

Wedge's eyes shot open immediately, and he picked himself up off the floor. Biggs was lying down a little way away from him in a position that was decidedly unnatural.

"What the hell just happened?" Biggs asked him, his voice only a whisper.

"I'm not sure sir," Wedge said, reaching over to take Biggs's hand in his own.

"Where are we?" Biggs asked.

Wedge took a quick glance at their surroundings, taking in the grey earthy look of most of the buildings and streets, and the sounds of trains in the background.

"Timber sir," Wedge answered. "Don't ask me how we got here because I have absolutely no idea."

Biggs made a small moaning sound and rolled over onto his side. Wedge felt the other man squeeze his hand with what little strength he had left.

"Great," he laughed. "We ended up in the only place that hates Galbadians more than Esthar at the moment." Wedge pulled off Biggs's helmet, hoping to give the man a little extra air, just in time to see the man's eyes flutter shut.

"Hey Biggs," Wedge said, trying not to show too much emotion on his face. He was afraid it would only be despair, rather than the smile he was trying to send Biggs. "Don't give up on me now, all right?"

"Holy shit!" a voice called from a little way away. "Wedge, Biggs, what are you doing here?"

Wedge looked up through tear-stained eyes to see Private Donis, the man that used to be Colonel Everett's second-in-command.

"Is the Major all right?" Donis asked, dropping to the ground beside Wedge.

"'m not a Major any more," Biggs muttered. "And I'm just fine."

"I don't know about that," Wedge said, for now just glad that Biggs could still talk. When Biggs's eyes had closed he had feared the worst.

"What happened?" Donis asked, inspecting the damage to Biggs's body.

"We ran into a monster that turned out to be a lot stronger than we thought," Wedge explained. "After that…" he shrugged. "I'm not sure I understand it really." He winced as one of his own injuries flared up again.

"Gee Wedge, you're almost as badly banged up as Biggs," Donis looked slightly shocked. "Don't worry; we'll get both you and Biggs to somewhere safe and get you both patched up. Wedge?"

Wedge had just enough time to hear Donis call over a couple of his fellow soldiers and tell them to carry the two deserters to the Timber barracks before the darkness claimed him.


	8. Chapter Seven

AN: Sorry it's been so long. This chapter has given me a little bit of trouble, and after I edited it for what seems to be the hundredth time I checked the word count and realised it's almost doubled in length. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not. At any rate, here's the next chapter. Things are going to start moving in a different direction from now on.

"Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb,  
The step where Fame's proud temple shines afar;  
Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime  
Has felt the influence of malignant star,  
And waged with Fortune an eternal war;  
Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown,  
And Poverty's unconquerable bar."

**James Beattie**

The next two days seemed to Wedge and Biggs to be the most awkward in their entire life. The Timber guard seemed to be incredibly kind to them, giving them medical attention, all the food they needed, and warm comfy beds that they could sleep in at night, and yet they couldn't tell the Timber guard anything in return for their generosity. They didn't know why they were where they were and couldn't even begin to explain what had happened to them before they had been found on the streets of Timber, and although they felt guilty about lapping up their hospitality while they didn't know the full truth, telling the Timber guard that they had actually just quit the army could only lead to a court marshal.

Eventually Wedge summoned up enough courage to pull Donis aside and tell him the truth.

"YOU WHAT?" Wedge was afraid that Donis's screams were heard throughout the entirety of Timber. It seemed that he had just revealed their secret to the only person in Timber that would chastise them for it instead of applaud.

Wedge quickly ran out of the room and grabbed Biggs while he was in the middle of lunch, pulling him away from the table before he could even ask what was going on.

"I'd say Donis is a bit of a patriot sir," Wedge said as the two of them ran away from the barracks as quickly as possible. "I'd also say that was the only reason why he was helping us out sir."

"Let me guess," Biggs panted as he ran beside him. "You told him that we're deserters, didn't you?"

Wedge nodded.

"Hell!" Biggs said as they turned a corner. "Even I could have told you that Donis would have been a bad choice. There were probably a couple of dozen soldiers in those barracks that were secretly members of a resistance group, and you had to choose the only patriot in the whole place!"

"I'm sorry sir," Wedge panted as the two of them flopped against a brick alley wall. "You think they'll send out soldiers after us?"

"Nah," Biggs put the idea to rest in Wedge's mind. "Donis may be a patriot, but he likes the two of us too much to want us dead, unlike his former commanding officer. If Everett gets wind of the fact that we've quit the army then we really will be dead." Biggs looked over at the panting ex-soldier beside him and smiled. "Beginning to regret the fact that you joined me in my desertion?"

"Of course not," Wedge laughed. "I just love running for my life. I thought you would have realised that by now."

Biggs laughed and reached a hand over to ruffle Wedge's hair playfully. Before long the two of them were scuffling and play fighting like a couple of school children. Eventually they collapsed on the cobbled floor, both of them laughing, and neither of them able to explain where their sudden burst of immaturity had come from.

"Seriously though," Biggs said shaking off his laughter. "We need to find somewhere to lie low for a while."

"Should we find someone who's supportive of the resistance movement and tell them we told the army to screw themselves?"

"It sounds like as good a plan as any to me."

-(-0-)-

When Wedge opened his eyes the next morning, he didn't really know where he was for the first couple of minutes. Wherever it was, it certainly wasn't Dollet, and it wasn't the training barracks. Hell, it wasn't even ICM headquarters.

Then the blur that comes straight after a good night's sleep lifted from his eyes and he was able to take in a little bit more about his surroundings.

The room was small; not uncomfortably so; but it still would have been nice if there were a couple more metres between his bed and the unmade pile of sheets on the other side of the room.

_That's right_, Wedge remembered. He and Biggs were renting out a house in the middle of Timber.

Wedge took a moment to wonder at the absurdity and unpredictability of his life, before pulling himself out of bed, stumbling down the ridiculously thin and steep stairs, therefore reaching the kitchen and thus spent the next ten minutes staring at the nearly empty cupboard; wondering if there was anything that could pass as edible at seven o'clock in the morning.

Settling on a strong coffee and a handful of sugar-coated biscuits, Wedge plonked himself down at the kitchen table and began to stare blankly at a spot on the wall.

A rustling noise reached his ears when he put his cup on the table, and he looked down to see that Biggs had left a hastily scrawled note on the table.

Wedge picked it up, blinked a couple of times until the sleepy haze had disappeared from his vision once more, and attempted to decipher Biggs's handwriting.

_Wedge,_

_I've gone to the store to pick up some stuff. Don't know when I'll be back._

_Biggs_

Oh. Well that explained why Biggs wasn't in the house, Wedge realised with all the mental speed of someone who was still partially asleep.

He hadn't noticed it before, but now that he knew, the house seemed a lot quieter while the other man wasn't there and worse because of it. All the empty corners and blank walls seemed to surround the few spots that they had, in one way or another, made their own, causing the building to suddenly seem alien and unwelcoming. Wedge suddenly felt extremely lonely, and began to wish that Biggs hadn't left him.

He couldn't even explain why he missed Biggs so much. For all he knew, Biggs could turn back into the strict and uncaring commanding officer he had been for most of the time Wedge had spent in ICM. There still hadn't been an explanation for the strange behaviour either. There hadn't been much privacy in the Timber barracks, and the one time Wedge had managed to find the time to talk to Biggs in private, the older man had completely refused to talk about the subject.

Biggs was so confusing, and his own reactions to the man even more so. He still couldn't explain what had prompted him to follow him through what had been so many potentially dangerous and deadly situations, for no other reason than the fact that he couldn't imagine himself going on alone now that he had met Biggs.

Wedge absentmindedly drew a couple of absurd looking smiley faces on the piece of paper while he finished his breakfast, before dragging himself back up the stairs to the miniscule bathroom he shared with Biggs. This house was so cramped, Wedge thought as he glanced around the room. He wondered how Biggs, the claustrophobic that he was, was going to deal with this place after a while. They had talked about it briefly the night before, but all Biggs had said was that as long as he got the bed closest to the window he would be fine.

Wedge quickly cleaned his teeth, did a rough job on his hair that would make it look almost passable from a distance (at least, he hoped it would. The one thing that this house seemed to be missing in its cramped interior was a mirror) and had just run enough water for shaving when he heard a deep voice behind him.

"Private Wedge!" the voice barked.

Wedge froze. He moved to turn around, but the voice continued before he could finish the action.

"Put your hands in the air," the voice commanded. "There's a gun pointed at your back right now, so don't make any sudden movements!"

_No_, Wedge thought. _I knew they would catch up with us eventually, but this is too soon._

"Wedge," the voice continued. "You are a deserter from the Galbadian military. You are aware that desertion is treason; a criminal offence punishable by death."

"Yes sir," Wedge whispered. He was surprised he had enough courage to say even that much.

"We however, believe that you have merely come under the influence of someone far more dangerous and malevolent than yourself," the voice said, "so we are willing to give you another chance. Tell us where that bastard Biggs is and we'll let you off with imprisonment."

Wedge didn't know what prompted him then, but all he could hope was that the soldier hadn't seen the note Biggs had left downstairs on the table.

"I won't betray Biggs sir," Wedge said, praying to whatever deity that might be listening that Biggs would find a way to escape these people.

"Your loyalty is touching," the voice said. "But it will cost you your life. Goodbye Wedge."

Wedge braced himself for a gunshot, embarrassed to feel a solitary tear trickling down his cheek.

"Three…" the voice began, deliberately taunting Wedge. "Two…" Wedge could imagine the man's finger tightening over the gun's trigger. "One…"

_This is it,_ Wedge thought. _The end._

"BANG!" yelled the voice, just as Wedge felt an enormous weight suddenly resting on his shoulders. For a moment he had cringed, but as it turned out, needlessly. When his muscles relaxed once more, all he could feel was Biggs leaning against him; his arms resting over Wedge's shoulder and on to his chest, and all he could hear was Biggs's laughter.

"I can't believe you fell for that!" Biggs laughed. "I thought for sure you would have recognised my voice, even with that stupid accent I put on."

"Oh ha ha," Wedge guffawed sarcastically, shrugging Biggs off his shoulders.

"I must say though Wedge," Biggs said, wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes. "I really am rather touched by your loyalty. I don't think I've ever had a friend that would die for me before."

"I don't know about die for you," Wedge growled. "I'm just about ready to kill you right now."

Biggs took one look at Wedge's face; the younger man's expression stuck halfway between outrage and tearful shock.

"I'm sorry Wedge," Biggs said, putting on a pout that was so fake it was almost plastic. "You think you'll ever be able to forgive me?"

"I doubt it," Wedge answered. "With all the other things I'm supposed to forgiving you for I doubt there's enough room in my heart for this as well."

Perhaps there was just a touch too much bitterness in Wedge's voice. Perhaps the memories were just a little too much for Biggs to handle. Whatever the reason, Biggs's grin immediately fell from his face.

"I…" Biggs's hand moved out as though he wanted to comfort Wedge, but was then pulled back swiftly as Biggs realised what he was about to do. "I really am sorry for everything I did Wedge. I wish I could take it back."

_Tell him! Tell him!_ Biggs's thoughts screamed.

_And then what?_ he mentally screamed back at them. _I'd have to explain why the prospect of Everett separating us was such a fearful one._

And for some reason Biggs really didn't want to let Wedge know something he himself still wasn't sure of.

"Let's just say that I didn't mean any of it, okay?" Biggs settled on saying.

For a moment Wedge looked as though he wanted to question what had just happened inside Biggs's mind, but the moment swiftly passed.

"Guess what?" Biggs said, jumping up and down with excitement like a kid at Christmas; killing the developing silence before it grew awkward.

"What?" Wedge asked, content to play Biggs's game for the moment.

"I got us some new clothes!"

-(-0-)-

Wedge didn't consider clothes to be anything worth getting excited about, especially when they were the sort of clothes that Biggs had dragged home.

"These are second hand, aren't they?" Wedge asked, holding up a pair of jeans that may have been fashioned to look like they were five years old. Then again, maybe they really were five years old judging from the smell.

"Well, they were all I could really afford," Biggs said, putting on another one of his pouts, which was probably supposed to make Wedge melt. Unfortunately for Biggs, the only reaction it seemed to get from Wedge was to make him laugh.

Wedge picked up a singlet top that looked more like it belonged on his sister then on him, and grinned.

"At least it's not a Galbadian army uniform," Wedge surmised, picking up a bundle of black and making his way to the bathroom for a shower. He almost hated to admit it, but he was well and truly sick of getting in the same clothes every day.

"Thankyou sir," Wedge added, closing the bathroom door behind him. The door jammed before it was fully shut, spoiling a perfectly good apology, and Wedge cursed, before yanking the door as hard as he could, closing it with a bang.

-(-0-)-

It wasn't often that Biggs found himself faced with a problem he couldn't solve. Usually a mixture of sneakiness and unpredictability gave him some sort of solution, even if that solution was simply to give up and walk away.

But this wasn't something you could just walk away from. This was going to haunt him in the loneliest depths of night. When all he had to hold was his pillow, this would be the image which would immediately spring to mind.

The outfit was as basic as you could get; a pair of black cargo pants and a black tank top, but Wedge made it look good. Biggs blamed on the fact that he had never seen Wedge in casual clothing before, but in truth he would blame it on anything if he could. He was afraid that he was staring far too much.

"So," Wedge said rather casually. "Do they suit me?'

For a moment Biggs was frozen completely; not a single facial muscle twitched, nor did his eyes blink.

"Sir?" Wedge asked, wondering if the man hadn't somehow fallen asleep while still standing.

_Damn Wedge looks nice in black._

"Sir?" Wedge repeated when Biggs still didn't move.

_Really, really nice in black._

"SIR!" Wedge shouted, making the other man jump a couple of feet into the air. "Do these clothes suit me? Really, I'm hopeless with these things."

Biggs felt shivers go down his spine. He had been staring, and he knew it. He quickly tried to cover it up by pretending he had been giving Wedge's new garments a serious appraisal.

"I don't know," Biggs said, trying to look at the garments critically. "Maybe you just need some jewellery or something, and then it would look better. Hang on a second, is your eyebrow pierced?"

"Yeah," Wedge answered. "Although I haven't worn anything since I joined the army. I'll be surprised if it hasn't closed up a little bit."

"It hasn't," Biggs said, coming closer to Wedge so that he could inspect the piercing. "I wonder why I never noticed it before."

"Probably the fact that nearly every time you've seen my face before you've been drunk."

"Probably," Biggs admitted. "I should really get you a ring or something to put in."

"Do we really have the money to be spending on jewellery, sir?"

Biggs didn't answer Wedge, but silently, he promised himself that somehow, even if he starved because of it, he was going to find Wedge an eyebrow ring, because then, the other man would look absolutely perfect.

-(-0-)-

Finding a place to stay turned out to be the easy part. Paying the rent however, was a problem that quickly came to prove itself as the most difficult part of their new life.

Finding a job in Timber turned out to be far harder than either of them had expected. The various factions and resistance groups in Timber seemed to have worked themselves into a complex and closely woven web, which meant that newcomers to the town were quickly passed over for someone with connections to whichever resistance group the owners of the business belonged to.

Consequently, Biggs and Wedge were applying for whatever job was going at the moment.

This wouldn't be so hard, Wedge thought as he pushed open the front door, allowing a satisfying creak to resound throughout the nearly empty shop. After all, how many people would want to work in a place like this? It was covered in cobwebs, contained so many useless items that Wedge began to wonder if having a dozen different paperweights and doorstops was actually a much better idea than he had previously thought, and smelled as though a few rats had given up the will to live while they were scurrying around in the shop's walls.

In fact, it was a lot like the Galbadian army, Wedge thought with a wry grin. He should feel right at home.

"Are you here for the job interview?" a crackly voice called out from somewhere behind a counter.

Wedge took a moment to wonder what on Earth the shop would need another employee for, before deciding that all that mattered right then was the fact that he would be paid, most likely, for standing around and doing nothing except trying to ignore the smell.

"Yes, thankyou," Wedge answered politely. "I am."

"Right," the crackly voice announced. Wedge looked around for somewhere to sit, but found nothing.

"Just stand!" the voice told him. "I'll decide whether or not I want you to work for me soon enough. What experience have you got?"

"Don't you want to know my name first?" Wedge asked, beginning to wonder if taking this job was such a good idea.

"Not really," his interviewer said, finally emerging from behind a pile of porcelain. The voice's owner turned out to be a shrivelled old woman, less than half Wedge's height. She wore spectacles that seemed two sizes too big for her face, and walked along with the help of a tiny old walking stick, and she stared at Wedge with a look that said she could tell what Wedge was thinking, and she didn't approve of his thoughts one tiny bit.

"If you were important enough," the old woman continued, "then I would know you're name already. Now; experience!"

Wedge and Biggs had already decided that if they were to survive in this town, it would be best not to go around telling everybody that they used to be members of the Galbadian military. So they had settled on a story that wasn't too far removed from the truth, and one which they hoped wouldn't displease any of the Timber natives.

"I've been a SeeD for the last few years of my life, but now I've reached the age limit."

"Really?" The old woman seemed doubtful. "Last time I checked, the age limit was twenty-five, and you don't look twenty-five!"

"Well," Wedge admitted, silently admiring the woman for her accuracy. "I do look younger than I really am, I suppo..."

"I would have said you were only fifteen!" the woman interrupted.

Okay, Wedge thought. Maybe he really did look younger than he actually was. This could be difficult.

"And what the hell is that you've got stuck through your eyebrow!" the old woman added.

_Whoops_, Wedge thought. He'd obviously forgotten to take out the eyebrow ring Biggs had bought for him.

"And you look like a girl," the woman continued, with apparently no regard for Wedge's feelings.

Now perhaps that was taking it a little far, Wedge thought.

"Well excuse me for not having perfect facial features," Wedge objected, trying not to sound too rude as he did.

The woman may have been about to further insult Wedge, but at that moment the door creaked open and a young man walked in.

"Denna! It's so good to see you!" the woman cried out in greeting, before shuffling over to the man and asking him a barrage of questions so quickly that Wedge wondered if the man could understand what she was saying.

"You!" the woman suddenly stopped for long enough to snap at Wedge. "You can go."

Wedge sighed. He had a sudden strange feeling that he wasn't going to get anywhere in this city.

-(-0-)-

Biggs stopped staring at the telephone just long enough to get up and get himself a drink of water, before resuming his silent, unwavering vigil over the communications device.

It had been two weeks since Wedge and he had left the Timber barracks, and those two weeks had brought sixteen job interviews, and not so much as a single phone call to even let him know that they'd found someone else for the job. In fact, one woman hadn't even asked him his name, before announcing that she'd heard his lame SeeD story already that day, telling him he looked like a girl and pushing him out the door as fast as a three foot tall geriatric could.

Biggs's ears pricked up as he heard the front door open.

"Hey," Wedge's highly unenthusiastic voice called out. "I'm home."

"Wedge!" Biggs called out, jumping to his feet and rushing to give the other man a hug.

Wedge was, to say the least, surprised, but not so much that he didn't have the presence of mind to hug back.

"Err…" Wedge said when the ex-Major showed no signs of letting the embrace come to a finish. "You can let go of me now sir."

Biggs laughed and reluctantly removed his arms from around his roommate. He had noticed that every so often, Wedge still addressed him with the formal 'sir', although it was gradually lessening.

"I uh… got a job offer today," Wedge mentioned casually.

"That's great!" Biggs said. "Maybe you can put in a good word for me there, and then we might actually be able to afford to stay in this place!"

"Um…" Wedge seemed to be blushing. "I don't think I really want to become a male stripper though sir."

Suddenly, Biggs was blushing too.

-(-0-)-

Weeks passed, what little money Biggs had saved up began to disappear, and still neither of them had found a job.

"Just remember Wedge," Biggs said one fateful day as they walked down the streets after another round of failed job interviews. "Perfectly respectable jobs aren't the only way of making money."

"What are you suggesting?" Wedge asked, "That I should have taken that stripper job or something?"

"Well, you can if you really want to," Biggs shrugged, trying to hide the bright red blush that was beginning to spread over his cheeks, "but I was thinking more along the lines of something like that."

He pointed to a sign on the wall of the club that they were walking past.

"'Talent Quest,'" Wedge read the garish pink writing. "'Musical, acrobatic; any talents! Think you've got what it takes? Then enter the Mayhem Talent Quest. Large prizes for first, second and third place.'"

He shrugged and turned back to Biggs. "What were you thinking of doing?" he asked.

"Well," Biggs fidgeted a bit and looked down at his feet. "Do you think my voice might be good enough for me to sing in the talent quest?"

Wedge stared wide-eyed at the man that used to be his commanding officer.

"Of course sir!" he cried.

"And I remember you saying once that you used to play the guitar," Biggs continued, "and I'm pretty good on the drums, so maybe we could start a band?"

For a moment Wedge just stood there in the middle of the street, indulging the idea of the two of them forming their own band in his imagination. It had always been a dream of his to become a professional musician; a dream that was ranked right behind the one that involved him becoming a member of elite squadron, and one that was just as unlikely. He imagined a crowd of thousands screaming out his name, just before reality hit him like a tonne of bricks.

"But I don't have a guitar," he told Biggs. "And you don't have a drum kit."

"Well, I'm sure we can buy them from a second hand shop around here somewhere," Biggs looked around as though a second hand store would appear at his bidding.

"That's still an awfully big investment considering how close we are to hitting rock bottom," Wedge commented as they reached their home.

The building was looking rather shabby, despite Biggs's insistence that one of the first things he was going to do was get it fixed up so it looked nice. Parts of the brick face were beginning to crumble, and all of the painted surfaces were beginning to fade and peel.

"I suppose we can still get part time jobs if we need to," Biggs said, as though that thought would make the building suddenly seem more attractive. "And even if we don't win the talent quest then we might be able to start busking in the streets."

"I must be crazy," Wedge said, wondering, not for the first time, if he should have ever joined ICM.

"Finally you agree with me," Biggs said, throwing an arm around Wedge's shoulders.

-(-0-)-

"Colonel Everett. Someone's here to see you."

Everett frowned, trying to ignore the Private that had addressed him, and returned to the design he was working on.

"Colonel Everett?"

Everett let out a noise of exasperation, partway between a grunt and a sigh, and turned around to face the man. He tried to remember the recruit's name, but failed completely. There were so many new faces in Research at the moment, and none of them were important or intelligent enough to bother remembering.

"Fine," Everett snapped, staring at the saluting Private. "You've delivered the message, haven't you? Go do something useful."

The Private looked shocked for a moment, before he scurried away from Colonel Everett's office as quickly as he could.

How very useless, Everett thought of the soldier. He pondered ignoring his visitor for a couple of moments. The design he was working on was probably much more important than whatever it was his visitor had to do or say. He stared at the piece of paper in front of him, but realised that his concentration had been broken. He wasn't going to be able to work on it as diligently as he had hoped.

He made a noise born of exasperation, shoved the piece of paper to the other side of the desk, and prepared himself for this visitor, whoever it turned out to be. He took a couple of moments to straighten out his uniform, before briskly striding from the room and to the front desk of the Research and Development headquarters.

He forced a smile onto his face, just in case the visitor proved to be someone of mild importance, before looking around the room eagerly, as though he really did care that someone was coming to see him.

"Colonel Everett," a soldier in the uniform of a Private addressed him, saluting smartly. "Sir."

"Private Donis?" Everett asked when he recognised his visitor's voice. "What in Hyne's name are you doing here? I thought I fired you."

"You did sir," Donis answered smartly. "I'm here to report some information that you might find interesting, sir."

"I might find it _interesting_, might I?" Everett mocked, now quite angry at having been disturbed. "Well, go ahead and tell me."

"I told General Caraway at Administration sir, but he said they're too busy to deal with the matter," Donis continued. "It's Private Wedge and Private Biggs sir."

Everett suddenly found that Donis' report held all of his interest.

-(-0-)-

"What about this one?" Biggs asked; holding up an old wooden contraption that looked as thought it would have better suited a folk singer than Wedge.

Wedge took one look at the floral carvings on the side and shook his head.

"Did you end up finding out about that busking license?" Wedge asked.

"Yeap," Biggs said, taking another look around the second hand store and spotting a drum-kit hiding behind a wardrobe at the back. He rummaged around and emerged holding a pair of scratched and dinted drumsticks. "It's going to be eight hundred Gil for the both of us."

"What!" Wedge screamed. He shook his head. "This whole idea is crazy. It's absolute madness. There's no way we're going to…"

He stopped as Biggs began to beat out a simple rhythm on the drum-kit.

"You're not thinking of buying that are you sir?"

"Don't give me that look Wedge," Biggs said. "It's perfectly fine. All it needs is a bit of paint and polish and it will be as good as new."

Wedge sighed and looked around the store. He had to admit that they had been lucky to find a shop such as this in Timber. It seemed to be the city's only second hand store, but it stocked everything from clothes and furniture, which Biggs had already purchased to rare jewellery and the instruments they had desperately wanted. The only problem was that there seemed to be absolutely no order to how everything was arranged. Shirts were stacked next to shelves, and bracelets next to beds. The store took up two enormous warehouses as well, both of which combined seemed to the two SeeDs almost the same size as Galbadia Garden had been. It made shopping for something as specific as a guitar quite frustrating.

A flash of silver about fifty metres away caught Wedge's eye, and he wandered over to find the most beautiful guitar he had ever laid eyes on resting against the all the leads and speakers he would need to not only play the instrument but make it sound heavenly as well. The guitar was decorated in plates of some sort of dark reflective metal, and painted in a pearlescent coating that made the whole thing look magical.

Wedge picked it up and held it in his arms. It seemed to be the perfect weight and size for him. He gave it a couple of experimental strums and smiled. It felt good to be playing again. He hadn't played at all since his parents had announced how much they disliked the idea of the fifteen year old Wedge becoming part of a band.

The now nineteen year old Wedge smiled as he remembered the objections of his parents.

"Musicians are all a bunch of rotten, drunken lunatics!" his father had screamed on several occasions.

"We know you want this honey," his mother had said, placing what Wedge supposed was meant to be a supportive hand on his own, "but we're just thinking of your own well being. We don't want you getting mixed up with the wrong crowd."

Wedge chuckled and glanced over at the man he was now boarding with. He suspected that if his mother met Biggs then she would strongly disapprove. The man seemed to Wedge to be the sort that his mother would immediately place in the 'wrong crowd' group. That ponytail for a starter. Oh dear, his mother would not like Biggs at all. Wedge smiled at the thought.

His attention turned back to the comfortable weight of the guitar straps on his shoulders. He hadn't realised how much he had missed the feeling of a guitar in his hands and a tune on his lips.

"What are we going to play sir?" Wedge asked Biggs as he tuned a couple of strings on the guitar.

"Maybe we should just start out doing covers, but if you could come up with something original it would be cool. I'm hopeless at writing."

"You're going to have to help me sooner or later you know," Wedge told him. "After all, you're going to be the one playing and singing. I need to know how far I can go before it becomes too much for you."

"Look Wedge," Biggs scowled. "Whatever you write I can play all right, so you just do the writing and let me worry about how I'm going to…"

Biggs looked up from his inspection of the drum-kit to notice the guitar in Wedge's hands for the first time. Wherever his train of thought had been going, it now slammed on the brakes.

"Wow!" Biggs said, running over to Wedge to get a closer look at the instrument. "That's really nice."

"I thought so too," Wedge agreed, turning over the price tag. He took one look at the figures and hastily put the guitar back down. "On second thought maybe not."

Biggs picked up the guitar and looked at the price tag.

"I take it this isn't too good a price?" Biggs guessed.

"It's all right for what it is and the condition it's in," Wedge told him. "But really sir, I think we could get a brand new one for cheaper."

"But would the brand new one be as good as this?"

"I don't know sir."

Biggs took another look at the instrument, before picking it up and placing it in Wedge's hands. He stepped back, ignoring the surprised look on Wedge's face and staring at the man and the instrument for a while. He nodded and began walking back over to the drum-kit.

"The two of you look good together," he told Wedge, picking up the high-hat, bass, cymbals and drum all at once. "You're keeping that guitar."

Wedge stared in shock at the beautiful instrument in his hands for a while, before picking up the leads and speakers that it was connected it to, and following Biggs to the counter. This was one guitar that no matter what happened was never going to get smashed on stage.

-(-0-)-

Wedge stared at the ceiling and waited for inspiration to come. Biggs had suggested that they come up with original songs, and so he was working on doing exactly that, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of anything to write a song about; at least, nothing that wasn't cliché or that most people wouldn't be able to relate to. He'd never been in love; at least, not that he was aware of, and so had never been heartbroken; at least in the sense that most songs meant, and he really, really didn't think that their band was the sort to sing about rock and roll or going out and getting high, drunk or laid on Saturday nights.

They had already experimented with their sound a little bit, and were working on a cover of 'Eyes On Me' by the legendary vocalist Julia, although with Biggs singing it the song went from ballad to some sort of powerful and rather heart wrenching rock. He just needed to find that one special idea that would inspire him to write.

-(-0-)-

Biggs sighed and stared at a rather large spot on the wall. With no songs having been written by Wedge, there was nothing for him to sing or practice. Without anything to practice, or Wedge to spend time with, he was quickly becoming bored. He hummed aimlessly to himself, and rolled his drumsticks backwards and forwards across their kitchen table.

Life with Wedge, as happy and contented as it made him, was quickly turning out to be frustrating for the ex-soldier. They had lost so much precious time while Everett had been calling the shots, and he wanted to make up for. He wanted to spend every available moment in Wedge's company, but had quickly found out that when Wedge said he wanted peace and quiet so that he could concentrate, he meant it. Their last conversation on the topic had ended with Wedge hurling a rather sharp and accurately thrown pen at Biggs.

Biggs rubbed his bruised and cut arm. Well, that was one lesson he wasn't about to forget in any hurry.

Busking had proved to be a rather large waste of time in Timber. Biggs and Wedge had taken their instruments out for a couple of days now, and while it gave them enough to feed themselves, the rent was still being taken out of Biggs's quickly depleting savings. They needed to find a gig soon, or they would be broke. It was either that or Wedge would have to take the stripper job he had been offered. No, Biggs thought, shaking his head. He would rather starve than let it come to that.

At least Wedge wasn't referring to him as 'sir' as often any more. The title just made Biggs feel uncomfortable, as if the two of them were back in the army once more. Biggs shuddered as he recalled some of their more horrible moments.

A knock on their front door almost made Biggs jump out of his skin. He jumped to his feet as quickly as possible and ran to the front of the house.

Who in Hyne's name would be visiting them? About the only person that cared about them was their landlord, and he had already called a couple of days ago for a surprise inspection and for the next round of rent payments.

He opened the door to find that their visitor was someone he had never seen before. He was sure of it. He would have remembered this face.

His first thought was "Wow!" This was quickly followed by "She's gorgeous!" and then a rather more quietly thought, "She does look kinda familiar. I wonder if I've seen her before somewhere. Oh, who the hell cares? She's hot!"

"Um… Can I help you?" Biggs said, leaning against the door and hoping that he looked cool enough to attract this woman's interest.

The woman pulled a few strands of her long dark brown hair away from her beautiful almond shaped eyes.

"Is..." she hesitated, obviously not sure of herself. "Is Wedge here?"

Biggs visibly slumped as he realised that the woman was after his roommate.

"Yeah," he said. "He's here. Did you want to come in?" He tried to brighten up. There was still plenty of time for good impressions, especially when Wedge was in such a volatile mood.

He stepped aside and let the woman enter, trying not to stare too obviously as she walked past him and into the kitchen.

"Well," she commented as she looked at the peeling walls and the pile of washing up in the sink, "it's not exactly paradise, but what can you expect from a couple of guys, right?"

The woman giggled and extended a hand for Biggs to shake.

"My name's Tina," the woman said, shaking Biggs's hand. "You must be the Biggs I've heard so much about. My brother didn't tell me that the two of you were living together now. Obviously everything must have been sorted out between the two of you then, right?"

"Err…" Biggs hesitated. _Wedge's sister_, he thought. _No wonder she looks so god damned familiar. In the face they're almost identical!_

"Holy Hyne!" a rather cheery sounding voice announced from the stairs leading up to the top floor of the building. Wedge bounded down them excitedly. "Tina, is that you? Eden's arse; what on earth are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you of course," Tina said as she was enveloped in a hug from her big brother. "Your last letter said you were here, and I was in town, so I thought I'd visit you. It seems like so long since we last saw each other."

"No kidding!" Wedge said. He gestured to the table and the two chairs there. "It's not much, but perhaps you'd like to sit down? I'll get you some coffee."

Wedge went to rush to the kitchen, before he backtracked a bit and nodded quickly to Biggs and Tina.

"Biggs; this is my sister Tina. Tina, this is Biggs." He quickly introduced the two of them before ducking back into the kitchen.

"So…" Biggs started.

"Yes?" Tina asked.

Biggs sighed.

"This is really awkward, isn't it?" he said, blushing a little bit.

Tina laughed. "It doesn't need to be," she said. "I don't bite you know!"

Biggs smiled. There seemed to be a trace of some sort of accent in Tina's voice, but try as hard as he could, he couldn't place it.

"So you're the only family Wedge has now, huh?" he said, looking down at the table gloomily.

"Apart from you of course," Tina said; as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Biggs laughed a little bit. "I don't know if I'd call myself family," he told Tina.

"Don't be stupid," Tina said. "The two of you are close enough to live under the same roof, right? That makes you family in my books."

"Thanks, I think," Biggs said, feeling rather nervous around Tina.

Wedge emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray and three cups of coffee.

"That's two sugars and more milk than water for you," he said, plonking a cup in front of Biggs. "One sugar and nearly no milk or coffee for you," he said, giving Tina her cup, "and two spoons of coffee and sugar for me."

He leaned against a nearby wall and sipped his drink. Biggs went to stand and offer Wedge his seat, thinking that the two relatives would want to talk to one another, but Wedge motioned for him to sit back down.

"That's okay," he told Biggs. "It's about time the two of you met anyway. I'll be fine standing."

"So Wedge," Tina began. "What now?"

Wedge glanced at Biggs and raised his eyebrows as if to ask his partner what he should tell his sister. Biggs shrugged and made some not so subtle movements to indicate that Wedge should tell his sister whatever he wanted to.

"Biggs and I are sort of in the process of forming our own band," Wedge told Tina.

The woman nearly choked on her coffee. Biggs quickly offered her a tissue, but the shocked look on Tina's face was not going to disappear in any hurry.

"You're what!" she yelled, although her face smiled. "If Mum and Dad found out about this then they would have a fit, you know that right?" She grinned at her big brother, who was obviously already nervous about the situation.

"Well, it's not as though they can disown me right?" Wedge joked. "They already think I've reached the bottom of the barrel, so I thought I'd show them that the barrel goes deeper than they thought."

"Very poetic Wedge," Biggs commented. "You should put something like that in one of our songs, you know."

"Soldiers," Tina shook her head, "deserters and now musicians. I think you should be glad I haven't been telling our parents about anything you've been getting up to Wedge. Can you imagine what would happen if I told them about Biggs? They'd have a heart attack!"

Wedge grinned, although he felt that maybe Tina was being just a little too over-the-top.

"What about you?" he asked, the conversation topic getting a little too uneasy for him. "How's everything going in your world?"

"All right," she told him. "The same as usual I guess."

Tina stopped for a moment, and Wedge knew that something was up.

"I've moved back in with Mum and Dad," she finally confessed. She moved her cup to her mouth for another sip, and Wedge could see that her hand was shaking. "I'm fed up with Darren."

"Her boyfriend?" Biggs mouthed his question at Wedge, getting a nod in return.

"He's always seeing other girls, and wasting all of my time, and we never do anything but fight," Tina sobbed. "So now it's over. I'm never seeing him again."

Tina sighed and grinned at Wedge and Biggs.

"It's a shame," she said, "that everyone doesn't get along as well as the two of you do."

The rest of the day passed quite happily. Tina ended up staying until dinner, and the three of them worked together to get the house looking tidier. By the time Tina left, the place looked tidier than it had when the two of them had first arrived. Biggs had even ducked down to the local store to get a fresh coat of paint for certain parts of the house.

Neither Wedge nor Biggs asked what Tina had meant by many of her comments, but they were both pretty sure that there was some sort of misunderstanding Tina had about the two of them.

Conversation between the three of them soon settled into some sort of relaxed pattern. While Tina and Wedge seemed to want to talk about their family a lot, Biggs was able to steal his friend's attention back by telling Tina about some of the trials they had gone through. Biggs and Tina even found that they had a few things they could talk about amongst themselves as well; not the least of which became swapping embarrassing stories about Wedge. When the conversation changed to this topic Wedge blushed and moved away from the two of them, only to be rounded up and dragged back into the conversation by the two of them.

Eventually Tina said goodbye, parting with a kiss on the cheek and a hug for both of the boys and some words of wisdom to her older brother.

"Stick with this guy," she told Wedge. "No matter how hard things get, stick with him. He'll stand by you, I know it."

She turned and waved goodbye to the two of them, before walking to the other side of the street where her small blue car was parked, and driving off.

Biggs and Wedge waved as she disappeared down the street.

"She was nice Wedge. Really pretty too," Biggs commented. "The two of you are rather alike, in fact."

Wedge laughed. Biggs blushed when he realised what he had accidentally implied.

"I…err…" Biggs tried to cover up his mistake. "That is, apart from the pretty thing, of course."

"That's okay," Wedge said, moving back inside the house. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Right…err…Well; if it's all the same to you then can we forget that I ever said that?"

"Of course not," Wedge grinned. "I'm going to be paying you out for that for the rest of your life!"

He smiled as he realised that Biggs was beginning to look suitably red in the face. He remembered his sister's words, and nodded to himself. A light seemed to switch on in his brain, and before he knew it, he was humming to himself.

Perhaps he had all the inspiration he needed to write a song, after all.


	9. Chapter Eight

**AN: **Just a note that Kupo and the Clever Fiends were invented by a combination of my brother, myself, and too much sugar. As a matter of fact, my brother had a lot of input in the creation of this story, so this is my time to say thankyou to him.

Also, a special thankyou must be given for those who campaigned for this to be updated. It would have taken even longer without you pushing for it.

"Music lasts by itself and cares not who composed it; nor can music recall the thousand anonymous fingers and mouths which tamper with it, beautifully or badly."

**Ned Rorem**

"What's it called?" Biggs said, looking over Wedge's shoulder at the sheet of lyrics resting in Wedge's lap.

"Going Down With You," Wedge answered.

"Ooh, sounds dirty," Biggs said, scanning the lyrics.

"Well, it's not supposed to," Wedge retorted. "So get your mind out of the gutter."

"It doesn't look too bad," Biggs said.

"It's about the only thing I've ever written that I'd say is good enough to be played in front of an audience," Wedge told Biggs, scanning the lyrics once more.

"You were complaining that you had no inspiration yesterday," Biggs commented, leaning right over Wedge and grabbing the sheet of paper before the other man could object. "Where the hell did this come from then?"

"Something Tina said yesterday inspired me," Wedge told him. "I guess I was thinking only about really obvious subjects for a song. I didn't think to choose something closer to me."

Wedge hesitated, wondering if Biggs would recognise himself in the song. From the smile on Biggs's face the other man hadn't yet. This probably wasn't the sort of song people would want dedicated to them.

"Do you like it sir?" Wedge asked, his mind and mannerisms temporarily thrown back to the time that the song had been inspired by.

"Hell yes!" Biggs said as he continued to read. "This is awesome! What's the tune?"

Wedge began to hum the chorus, and Biggs began quietly adding the words to the tune as he recognised where they matched up. They continued like that for a while, Wedge altering the tune as he attempted to match the song in his head with the song Biggs was now singing.

Wedge grinned as they moved further into the song. There were a few spots during which Biggs hadn't quite sung the song as Wedge had originally imagined it, but Biggs's version fit just as well, and he was quite content to leave it however Biggs wanted it.

"And I…" Biggs continued, a little louder as he moved into the final chorus. "I feel like sticking round, when you screw up again, like you always do, like you always do. Like you always do! Wedge, this rocks!"

Wedge shook his head as he realised that his musical partner hadn't yet picked up what Wedge's real inspiration for the song had been, even though he had sung it through from beginning to end.

"I haven't yet written the instrumentals for it," Wedge said. "But it's a start. At least you can practice the vocals and stop pacing around the house like a child with nothing to do."

Biggs fell silent. "Erm… sorry about that," he said, "Am I really that unbearable?"

"Probably just about as unbearable as me," Wedge said tactfully. He sighed and began planning chords with his fingers, trying to imagine how the song would sound when the instruments were added. He would have liked a bass to add into it, but they'd have to make do with what they had for the time being.

-(-0-)-

Days like this seemed to have been made so that families, lovers and friends could enjoy the good weather and one another's excellent company. On days such as this everyone should be having fun and no-one should be working.

Or at least, that's what Biggs thought as he set up a microphone in the Timber fairgrounds. He and Wedge seemed to be the only people in Timber, apart from the stallholders of course, which were actually going to have to work today.

Then again, he realised with a smile, playing music wasn't exactly like real work, and judging from their meagre earnings the last few times they had played in public, this was closer to charity than paid work.

Maybe today would be different though. Maybe the ridiculously good weather would put everyone in good spirits and somehow convince every person that heard their music that they should part with their spare change so that these two handsome young men would be able to find enough money for food over the next few weeks.

Biggs looked over his shoulder, to where his band mate and friend was wrestling with a handful of guitar leads.

"Should we perform Going Down With You today?" Biggs asked, knowing immediately that Wedge's answer would be a resounding 'no'.

They had practised the song so many times that Biggs knew every beat, high point and pause off by heart. It was quickly approaching the stage that his hands would beat out the rhythm as he slept, yet still, Wedge refused to play the song in public. Biggs knew he should just chalk it up to nerves on Wedge's part. After all, putting a creation as personal as an original song in front of a sceptical and undoubtedly misunderstanding public would take far more courage than Biggs possessed. Still, he had a feeling there was another reason for the guitarist's reluctance.

Just how personal were the lyrics, anyway? Biggs couldn't work out where Wedge had found inspiration, no matter how hard he tried. His best guess was that it had something to do with the other man's family. Wedge had said his sister Tina had provided the inspiration for the song, after all.

Biggs wrestled with his drum kit for a few more moments, before moving to help Wedge set up the more technical equipment.

"So, what do we play then?" he asked his musical partner as he plugged a lead into their small set of speakers.

Wedge shrugged in return. "Eyes On Me, Don't Break, songs that everyone will know."

"As usual," Biggs sighed. "I'm sick of being a cover band Wedge."

"Tell you what," Wedge said, as he slung his guitar over his shoulder and began plucking a few simple notes out as a warm-up. "Why don't we save Going Down until a really special performance; one that would be worthy of it?"

A blush had suddenly formed on Biggs's face, but the older man quickly shook it away. Wedge looked at him pointedly, asking him a question without words; namely, 'what the heck is wrong with you?'

"Maybe you shouldn't shorten the name of the song like that," Biggs suggested. Wedge's face was soon the same red colour his friend's had been as he realised what he had said. "It could, you know, cause misunderstandings."

"Right," Wedge agreed. There was an incredibly awkward silence then, as they both tried to forget what had just been said. "So," Wedge began, in an effort to get their minds both back on track. "We just play what everyone knows."

And play they did. For quite a few hours they entertained the festival goers of Timber, until Biggs's voice began to weaken, and they came to the quite sensible conclusion that perhaps it was time for a break.

The day was warm, especially now when the sun had reached its zenith and beat down cruelly on the festival-goers. Wedge had found relief in the form of an icy fruit-flavoured concoction and he sipped on it as the two musicians sat in the shade.

The feeling of the icy cold liquid as it slid down his throat was heavenly after two hours of backing Biggs's vocals. He couldn't help but sigh happily.

Biggs kept watching Wedge out of the corner of his eyes as the guitarist drank, then looking away as though he was pretending not to every time Wedge met his gaze.

"Would you like some?" Wedge asked, holding his drink out to offer it to Biggs.

"No; that's all right!" Biggs immediately refused the offer, shaking his head firmly. "I was just… um…"

"You sure?" Wedge double-checked. Biggs had been looking at him as though he wanted something. "It would probably be good for your voice."

"I'm all right," Biggs answered, his voice coming out more as a squeak than anything else.

"Fine," Wedge said, wiping some sweat off his brow and placing the straw back in his mouth.

Biggs returned to staring at Wedge, and let out a noise which could only be described as 'gurk'.

Wedge let the straw fall from his mouth and once more turned to Biggs, one eyebrow raised.

"What is it?" he asked, keeping as much of his newly felt annoyance out of his voice as possible.

Suddenly, a look of complete and resolved determination flared onto Biggs's face. He reached out and grabbed Wedge's top in his hands. Wedge was afraid for a moment that Biggs was angry with him for some sort of reason.

The determination didn't fade from Biggs's face, but was joined by a strange sort of look that had only ever appeared on the ex-Major's face before when he and Wedge had been at least slightly drunk.

Biggs leaned a little closer to Wedge, his mouth now set in a determined line, even though a sparkle in his eyes said that whatever he was thinking of doing, there were still a few doubts nagging at the back of his mind.

"Sir!" Wedge exclaimed.

"Ssh," Biggs hushed Wedge with a single finger.

"But it's Donis sir!" Wedge exclaimed, pointing urgently over Biggs's shoulder.

Biggs's hold on Wedge's shirt immediately disappeared, making Wedge fall a little. He turned around and saw that Wedge had been exactly right. Who else should be walking around the Timber festival but Everett's old subordinate.

"Oh fuck," Biggs squeaked as he caught sight of the soldier.

Donis turned around to face their direction. Biggs grabbed Wedge by the shirt, quickly pulling him to the ground. Donis frowned for a moment, but it didn't seem that he had seen the two men and he turned back to face whatever it was he had been doing before.

Biggs hefted Wedge back to his feet, and began sprinting back in the direction of their stand.

"Sir!" Wedge called as he was dragged along by his shirt. "What are we going to do? If Donis sees us we're going to be arrested!"

Biggs frowned and let out a small sigh of exasperation. He turned around and smiled encouragingly at Wedge before slowing their pace to a brisk walk.

"We're going to have to pack up the show," he answered, bringing a frown to the guitarist's face.

"But that will mean we won't be paid for the rest of the day," Wedge reminded Biggs.

Biggs's smile soon took the form of someone that was trying to be optimistic and smile so that no-one around them would worry about the situation, when inside, that person was cursing and thinking to themselves that they were two minutes away from hitting rock bottom.

"We'll be all right," Biggs told Wedge. "We've got that talent show at the pub next weekend, remember? I'm sure we'll be able to survive by regular busking until then."

Wedge tried to smile back, but began to wonder exactly how much longer he and Biggs could survive like this.

-(-0-)-

When next Saturday came, the two were definitely still alive, but only because a few of Timber's residents seemed to be feeling a lot more generous than usual that week. How long they would survive if they didn't win the talent quest was a lot less certain, however.

The Timber pub was nothing special. It was as grimy and rundown as most of the buildings in the area, but it had a warm sort of smell to it, as though this place was well-loved and often quite crowded.

Wedge felt a knot tighten in his stomach at the thought of performing in front of a large audience. After many meaningful and pointed stares and a few rather childish tactics on Biggs's part, the two had agreed that today would be the day they would finally perform 'Going Down With You' in front of an audience.

As he entered the pub Wedge found himself praying to whatever deity that could be bothered listening that Biggs didn't screw up and that the judges and audience liked the song.

Biggs looked at their surroundings with the air of one that had definitely expected better but wasn't about to say anything lest it offend someone.

"We're here to enter the talent quest," Wedge nervously told a cranky looking old woman that was sat at a small bench in the foyer, apparently recording all of the entrants.

"Right," the woman stared at Wedge from over the top of her glasses. She looked Wedge and Biggs up and down as though they were items in a store and she was contemplating buying them, before looking down at the clipboard in front of her. "Type of act?"

"Musical!" Biggs said, waving his drumsticks in front of her. "What did you think?"

"Well, you look like you could be comedy," the woman said. A sadistic grin appeared on her frown-wrinkled face. Biggs was surprised that her face didn't crack with the effort.

Biggs looked down at his clothes and frowned. So what if they weren't completely in fashion at the moment? The jeans and button-up shirts they were wearing weren't exactly original either, but they looked basically all right on them. It wasn't as though finding stylish clothes when they were living off second hand goods and a meagre amount of money was easy. Wedge had definitely shined up good, too. The old jacket he wore wasn't that much to talk about, but he had found a black leather choker in the second hand store. That, combined with the other black clothes and jewellery made Wedge, at least in Biggs's opinion, look scorching hot.

The woman frowned again. "What's the name of your act?"

"Err…" Biggs hesitated, looking completely lost. He glanced over at Wedge but his band-mate simply shrugged, seemingly as lost as Biggs.

They had spent three hours the previous night working everything out; from their outfit, to the argument about the song, but it now appeared that they had forgotten something rather important. Wedge and Biggs had a band, but that band didn't have a name.

Biggs threw an arm around Wedge's shoulder and pulled him off to the side.

"We'll just be moment," he assured the woman, receiving a rather deadly stare for his efforts.

"Wedge," he hissed into his partner's ear. "The band doesn't have a name!"

"I know," Wedge hissed back. "There's not enough time to make up a good one now though. We'll work out what our permanent name is going to be later. What have you been calling us when you've been booking other performances and stuff?"

"Wedge and Biggs," Biggs groaned. "But we've got to come up with something better than that! What about Wedge and Biggs's ultra cool rock band or something like that?"

Wedge shook his head as though he was ten seconds away from giving the whole thing up, before he turned back to the woman and smiled nervously.

"Wedge and Biggs," he told her.

"It took you that long to come up with a name like that?" the woman scoffed. "Regular geniuses you two are. The two of you will be performing at two this afternoon, right after Kupo and the Clever Fiends. You better be prepared; I hear that they're a very difficult act to follow."

The woman looked over her glasses at them once more, giving them a look similar to the one spiders must give flies right before they consume them, before waving them off.

The knot in Wedge's stomach tripled in size.

-(-0-)-

Wedge and Biggs watched as one comedy routine followed another. A couple of the performers were good enough to get a couple of snickers from the audience, but nothing that set them apart as obvious winners. Various other talents followed; from acrobats and jugglers to one rather pathetic and fairly predictable magical act.

"This is going to be too easy," Biggs said. "We should really start setting our sights a little higher Wedge. At this rate no-one is going to take us seriously."

Wedge sighed, and smiled at Biggs as widely as he thought he could manage. Despite the mediocre nature of all the acts so far, the knot in his stomach still hadn't disappeared.

Then the musical acts began, starting with a redheaded woman that obviously thought her voice was much better than it really was, and then it was time for the much talked about Kupo and the Clever Fiends to take the stage.

"And now presenting," the announcer said, emphasising the introduction with an arm flourish that suggested he was presenting the President of Galbadia instead of an entrant in a talent quest. "KUPO AND THE CLEVER FIENDS!"

There was a spattering of applause in amongst the audience. The curtains parted, to reveal a group of rather friendly and harmless looking creatures. A Moogle (a small cat like being with a large red bauble on its head), probably the Kupo that was apparently the leader of the band, held the microphone.

"Kupo!" it announced. Wedge had learnt long ago that these particular creatures tended to add the sound to nearly every sentence that came out of their mouth. It would be interesting to see if the Moogle's song would also feature the favoured word.

"And these are the clever fiends!" Kupo continued, gesturing to its band mates.

A black cat known as a Cait Sith stood to one side of Kupo, holding a bass guitar that looked too big for the creature to be carrying. To the other side stood a Moomba holding an electric guitar similar to the one Wedge carried. At the back, behind a massive drum-kit sat a green creature with large golden eyes known as a Tonberry.

Biggs burst out laughing.

"These fluff balls are our competition?" he joked. "Wedge my friend; if this is the worst we have to worry about then we'll take the prize home no problem."

The band started out with an incredibly complicated riff from the guitar playing Moomba. The bass and drummer joined in, creating a tune and rhythm that was both catchy and unique.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that sir," Wedge said as Kupo began to sing.

The band was really quite good, and it wasn't just their music. Their performance was astonishing. Within a minute Kupo was bouncing around on stage, and had the audience clapping along with her.

"Don't worry Wedge," Biggs said. "We've still got plenty of hope."

The Clever Fiends launched into the final chorus, Kupo took the notes of the song up a register, and hit a note that almost made Wedge's bladder burst, and stayed there for long enough to have the whole room screaming, not in pain, but in excitement.

The drumsticks dropped from Biggs's hand and fell to the floor. Biggs and Wedge stared at the stage as Kupo and the Clever Fiends finished, thanking the audience, who cooed as the band once again seemed cute, before the dusty red curtain closed over the stage.

"We're doomed," Biggs said as they trudged to the side of the stage.

Kupo smiled in quite a friendly fashion as they passed the other act.

"Good luck!" she said, making the simple gesture seem so cute that Biggs wanted to scream at the little cat.

The Moomba gave Wedge a little high-five as he walked off, squeaking something that was obviously meant to be encouraging. Wedge just smiled and nodded at it, and began to set up the leads for his guitar. He glanced behind him once more at the Moomba, as he realised that he had met the other guitarist before. Memories of a magic lesson flashed across his memory, and he smiled back in the direction the Moomba had walked off in.

"I'm glad you got out," Wedge whispered, though the Moomba would no longer be able to hear him.

"Damn that's a hard act to follow," Biggs commented as he dragged his drum-kit onto the stage.

"No kidding," Wedge said, fiddling with the guitar's strings in a warm-up that he knew was mostly an attempt to stifle his nerves rather than to actually do anything effective.

"You guys ready yet?" the announcer asked, poking his head back-stage.

"Just give us a minute, would you?" Biggs said, setting up his drum-kit near the microphone at the front of the stage. He began to swear as he attempted to adjust the microphone's height unsuccessfully.

His words echoed back at him, as well as some gasps and exclamations from the audience.

"I think the microphone is still on sir," Wedge told him.

"I realised that!" Biggs snapped, turning the microphone off. Wedge walked over to him and pulled a couple of nobs on the microphone's stand, bringing it down to an appropriate height for Biggs's drum-kit.

"Thankyou," Biggs whispered, sitting down at the chair behind his drum-kit. He tried to ignore the pounding of blood in his ears and turned his attention to Wedge, who looked to be quite calmly tuning his guitar to perfection. How on earth could Wedge be so bloody calm about performing in front of so many people?

In reality Wedge felt as though he was about to faint. Sure he had performed back at Garden, but never in competition, and never performing a song that he himself had written. What if it wasn't their performance that was the problem, but the song that they were performing? Oh well; it was too late to back down now. A certain argument yesterday had ensured that 'Going Down With You' was what they were going to perform, whether Wedge's nerves would allow it or not.

"Are you ready yet?" the announcer hissed.

"Yeap!" Wedge answered with a thumbs-up. "We're completely ready… er, aren't we sir?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," Biggs said, hoping that he wouldn't throw up.

"Right," the announcer said, sounding quite annoyed at the two of them.

"And now presenting!" the announcer's voice came from the speakers behind and in front of them. "The magnificent band; Wedge and Biggs!"

The curtains pulled back to reveal their audience and Biggs's stomach did an enormous back-flip. Wedge smiled confidently, and began to focus completely on making sure that his legs didn't give out beneath him.

"I'm Biggs," the drummer said, introducing himself.

"And I'm Wedge," the guitarist followed his lead.

"And we're Wedge and Biggs!" they announced, only realising how awkward it was to not have a name when most of the audience looked at them like they preferred the red-headed woman from before.

"We're going to be singing a song of our own for you today," Biggs said. "It's called "Going Down With You."

A couple of members of the audience sniggered. The woman that had taken their names for the competition grinned and glared at Biggs from behind her glasses.

"I hope you enjoy it," Biggs said nervously, praying to whatever gods or spirits that might have been listening that they did.

He took a deep breath and tapped one of his drumsticks against the rim of the drum; glancing back at Wedge to make sure that guitarist was listening.

"One, two," he whispered, in time with the tapping of his drumstick. "One, two, three four."

They launched into the introduction perfectly in synch, causing quite a few people in the audience to stop laughing and start paying attention. Still, the looks on the audiences' faces said that they were not yet impressed, and that they were expecting Wedge and Biggs to come out with something pretty damn good if they were to make up for their introduction.

Biggs began singing. At first he felt a little too nervous, his voice coming out a little too unsteady, but then he forced himself to imagine that it was just he and Wedge again; practising in the safety of their bedroom.

"It would be so easy to just walk away," Biggs began, causing a few more audience members to fall silent. He took a deep breath again and continued. "Pretend this never happened and leave it all behind. I can't pretend that you haven't given me all this pain. I've still got the scars in my heart and on my mind."

Wedge and Biggs increased the tempo a bit. Wedge's guitar work was now became quite complicated, and had quite a few people in the audience grinning in admiration.

"Because I!" Biggs sung into the microphone, beating out a complicated little rhythm that he had helped Wedge devise. "I feel like going down with you. Can't believe after all this time I still can't leave you…"

Wedge's fingers danced along the strings of his guitar as though this song was second nature to him. The nerves began to disappear as he focussed on making the guitar sing as he had made it do during the best of their practise sessions at home. Biggs was definitely doing justice to his song as well, although Wedge was fairly sure he still hadn't worked out where Wedge had received the inspiration to write it. He smiled as Biggs finished the chorus and began the second verse.

"You think I'd learn my lesson and just walk away," Biggs continued, echoing the first verse. "Blindfold my eyes and plug my ears and forget all the bad times. But I can't pretend I don't see that smile on your face, when you look into my eyes!"

Wedge always found himself with goose-bumps when Biggs sang that particular line. He always lifted the last word of the line up just enough to make something inside Wedge melt. His goose-bumps didn't disappear as Biggs picked up the pace again.

"And my heart is both screaming and yelling at me. And I can't pretend that I don't hate me, when your eyes start begging "please don't leave me!""

The second chorus began, and Wedge found himself smiling and playing up to the audience. Biggs glanced back at him, and they smiled at one another.

-(-0-)-

"They're not bad, are they sir?" a man with reddish-brown hair asked the man sitting beside him at one of the tables in the back of the Timber pub.

"Not bad at all," the man beside him agreed. "Tell me Watts; can you still play the synthesizer like you used to when we were at the academy?"

"I'm not sure sir. I haven't played one in a while, but I'm sure I could manage all right," the man known as Watts answered, continuing to refer to his friend as 'sir' even though there was absolutely no rank or title to separate the two of them. "Sir, do you think we should join with them? It would be a good cover, sir."

"Be quiet Watts; I'm thinking," the black haired man snapped. "I can still play the bass, so between the four of us we have a good band. No-one would expect a couple of men on the run from the law to join a band and attempt to become famous; and if this band does become famous then they couldn't kill us without everyone knowing about it! Watts; this is brilliance!"

"What is sir?" Watts asked.

"We're going to see if they'd like to join up with us and form a larger band," Watts's friend said. "It's brilliant!"

"Of course it is sir!" Watts agreed, showing absolutely no annoyance at his friend's insistence that it was he and not Watts that had come up with the idea. "Your ideas are always brilliant sir!"

-(-0-)-

The song finished, the audience clapped quite loudly and Wedge and Biggs took a bow. Perhaps they weren't as good enough as Kupo and the Clever Fiends, but they weren't bad enough to embarrass themselves, and for the time being that was enough for Wedge and Biggs to be pleased with their performance.

There were a few more acts after them; none of which were quite as good as Kupo or themselves, but Wedge and Biggs still managed to amuse themselves by watching the last few acts attempt to live up to the standard the Clever Fiends had set, and fail miserably time and time again.

Eventually there were no more acts to come forward, and the announcer stepped onto the stage to announce the winners. No-one seemed very surprised when Kupo and the Clever Fiends received first place. The four creatures that made up the band climbed on stage and were each presented a medal. An enormous cheque was passed to Kupo herself.

"Ten thousand Gil!" Biggs commented before letting out a whistle. "That would have been nice."

The two ex-soldiers watched as the band of furry creatures climbed off the stage with much congratulatory squeaking and hugging. A man in a rather official looking suit greeted the band as they moved off, immediately moving to shake Kupo's hand.

"Do you think that guy might be a representative from a record label?" Wedge suggested to Biggs.

Biggs looked over at the man Wedge was talking about and shrugged.

"Judging by Kupo and the Clever Fiends' performance and the way he's trying to get all chummy with Kupo then I wouldn't be surprised," Biggs concluded. "Although I am quite amazed that a record company bothered to send a representative to a gig as small as this."

"Second place!" the announcer continued.

A member of one of the acrobatic groups sent a cocky sidelong glance at Wedge and Biggs. The man obviously thought that his group would be the one to take out the prize. Kupo and the Clever Fiends had obviously been in first place, but second and third were a lot harder to judge.

Biggs poked his tongue childishly at the acrobat, who recoiled, making a face that obviously suggested he was disgusted by the singer's behaviour. Biggs grinned and turned his attention back to the announcer on stage.

"Wedge and Biggs!" the man on stage called out. It took a couple of seconds for their names to register, before Wedge and Biggs grinned at each other and headed towards the stage.

Biggs shook the announcer's hand and accepted the cheque for second place while Wedge stood back and grinned happily.

Biggs threw an arm around Wedge's shoulders as the two of them left the stage.

"How much?" Wedge asked, leaning over to read the cheque in Biggs's hands. "Five thousand Gil! That will be enough to pay the rent for the next year, and that was just for a tiny talent quest! We have to keep this up!"

Wedge and Biggs looked up from their newly gained cheque as they heard someone coughing to get their attention. They looked up to discover a couple of men about their own age standing in front of them.

_Record label representatives?_ Wedge wondered, looking the two of them up and down. One of them was wearing blue clothes that were just a little tight; the sort that a person would wear if they were expecting to have to move quite quickly and quietly. The other wore baggy faded clothes that probably used to be quite bright. The both of them looked as though they had been living in a similar fashion to Wedge and Biggs for the last couple of years.

_Nope,_ Wedge decided. _Definitely not label representatives._

"Hi," the one in blue said, thrusting his hand in Biggs's direction. Biggs looked at the hand as though it might bite him, before realising that the man wanted to introduce himself. He took the man's hand and shook it cautiously. "My name is Zone. This guy here," Zone gestured to the one with the long red-brown hair, "is my partner Watts. We were wondering if you guys would like a bass player and a keyboarder in your band?"


	10. Chapter Nine

**AN:** It's a relatively short chapter this time, but I hope the fact that it was up quickly makes up for it.

"If you will observe, it does not take,  
A man of giant mould to make,  
A giant shadow on the wall;  
And he who in our daily sight,  
Seems but a figure, mean and small,  
Outlined in fame's illusive light,  
May stalk a silhouette sublime,  
Across the canvas of his time."

**J. T. Trowbridge**

"This is a mistake," Wedge commented with a sigh. "We're barely surviving as it is! How in Hyne's name do you expect us to cope with two extra band members to look after!"

"Well for one thing," Biggs growled, a little annoyed by his friend's refusal to accept the possibility that the band might expand. "I'm hoping _they_ will actually be able to contribute some money to the band instead of living off my rapidly depleting funds!"

Wedge was immediately silenced by this comment and he looked away from Biggs guiltily. Biggs sighed and shook his head, knowing his last comment had sounded far more bitter than he had planned it to. In all truth he didn't mind paying for Wedge. It was a way he could repay Wedge for all that he had dragged the man through while he had been his subordinate.

"Sorry," Biggs whispered, as the guilt he felt at having upset Wedge once again began to set in. "I didn't mean it like that."

Wedge smiled half-heartedly and hung his head for a moment, before gazing hopefully at Biggs.

"I know," Wedge sighed. "But, this is _our_ band, isn't it? I just don't know if it will feel the same if we suddenly have other members."

Biggs smiled softly at Wedge then, and grabbed him in a swift and unexpected embrace. They stood like that for a moment, Wedge simply too stunned to return the gesture, before Biggs very slowly let the other man go.

"It can't hurt to just listen to them for a moment though, can it?" Biggs asked Wedge, who was still blinking and asking himself if Biggs really had just done what his brain was telling him the older man had.

"If you don't like their style of playing," Biggs continued. "Then you can just tell them we don't want anything to do with them."

"All right," Wedge agreed, nodding slowly. "We'll listen to them for a little while then."

"Thank you!" Biggs said, grabbing Wedge in another spontaneous hug which didn't even last long enough for Wedge to return it, before he ran out of the room.

Wedge was left standing completely still where Biggs had left him, watching the door that Biggs had hurried out of and wondering what had Biggs in such a strange mood that morning. He soon came to the conclusion that he didn't really care why the hugs had happened, but was surprisingly glad that they did.

He walked out of the same door that Biggs had, a warm smile now firmly set on his face for no real reason that Wedge could identify.

-(-0-)-

Zone emerged from a pile of old boxes covered in dust and clutching what must have once been a working bass guitar. A few seconds later Watts followed, clutching a bundle of leads somewhere underneath which must have been at least some significant part of a synthesizer.

"I don't believe they actually said they'd listen to us play sir!" Watts announced happily. "I thought for sure that they would have said 'no'."

"Yeah," Zone shrugged in response. "I don't think that the little one, whatsisname… Wedge, likes us much."

"Maybe we all just need a chance to get to know one another, right sir?"

"Maybe."

-(-0-)-

"You used to be what?" Biggs screamed after ten minutes of talking to the two potential new band members. Behind him Wedge was shaking his head and muttering something which didn't sound at all optimistic.

"Well, we still are really," Zone said as he helped Watts plug in all the various cords for the ancient-looking synthesizer. "But it's a little dangerous to be active at the moment, what with all the chaos surrounding Galbadia and Esthar; it's all too unstable. If we hide for a while then we'll be able to come back and make a significant difference later on."

"Death to the Galbadian menace!" Watts added heartedly. "Timber needs its independence sirs! It really does."

Wedge tugged on the back of Biggs's jacket, pulling him back so that the two of them could talk without Zone and Watts understanding their conversation.

"Timber revolutionaries?" he hissed. "This is bad Biggs! How are they going to react when they find out that we used to be Galbadian soldiers?"

"So what did the two of you do before you became musicians?" Watts asked, as if on cue, making both Wedge and Biggs tense.

"We… uh…" Wedge began nervously.

"We used to be in the Galbadian army!" Biggs admitted, with what seemed to Wedge to be an unusually bright smile on his face. Wedge was startled by Biggs's bold and possibly suicidal action, and wondered what in Hyne's name his friend was thinking.

Zone and Watts immediately frowned at the two of them.

"But we quit!" Wedge put in, trying to form a smile as welcoming and friendly as the one Biggs was wearing.

"We saw how horrible and corrupt it was, see?" Biggs continued. "We couldn't be all heartless like that lot, so we left them, right Wedge?"

Zone stared at Wedge and Biggs as though trying to figure out whether or not they were telling the truth before grunting and returning to what he had been doing before, now muttering something about 'Galbadian scum'.

"Hey," Wedge said quietly to Biggs. "Maybe this will get rid of them and we won't have to worry about them any more!"

"Wedge," Biggs gasped, staring at his partner with unhidden shock. "That was unusually heartless of you."

"You must be rubbing off on me then," Wedge commented, stretching out his arms.

Biggs looked completely offended by what Wedge had said, before he noticed the wink that Wedge sent in his direction. He grinned playfully at Wedge and tackled him, starting a small play fight which sent them tumbling to the floor.

Zone and Watts stared at Wedge and Biggs's unexpectedly childlike antics for a moment before deciding that the best course of action was to pretend that the two other men and their immature games did not exist and focus on setting up their instruments.

Zone cleared his voice once they had set up the bass and synthesizer. Biggs stopped midway through an attempt to pin Wedge's hands above his head so that he could tickle the other man senseless, and he and Wedge's attention quickly turned to the Timber revolutionaries. Watts blushed as their eyes met, and he glanced away from the guitarist and drummer quickly.

Wedge and Biggs soon realised how compromising their current position looked, and pulled away from one another hurriedly. They jumped to their feet and attempted to look at least a little bit dignified, a difficult act considering what Zone and Watts had just witnessed.

"So?" Biggs asked, straightening his clothes.

"So I was thinking," Zone began. "Maybe we shouldn't have a Galbadian as the frontman, seeing as how we're performing in Timber all the time."

"You're not actually part of the band yet," Wedge growled. "So stop acting like you are or you'll blow any chance you had with us."

"Anyway," Zone continued, completely ignoring what Wedge had said. "Why don't I become the lead singer?"

Wedge raised one eyebrow doubtfully. Biggs scowled at Zone, slightly put out by the suggestion that he would make a better frontman than Biggs. Neither of the ex-soldiers noticed that behind him, Zone's friend Watts was looking just a little bit worried.

"Show us what you can do then," Wedge said, the challenge in his voice obvious.

There was no way that this man's voice would be anywhere near as wonderful as Biggs's, Wedge had already decided, and if Zone was stupid enough to think that it was, then this alliance had been doomed from the start.

Zone launched into a rendition of 'Eyes On Me', making the other three people in the room cringe.

Wedge had been expecting a voice that wasn't as good as Biggs's, but he didn't think the gap between their talents would have been this big. He had to admit that if nothing else, then Zone's voice was truly unique. He didn't think he knew anyone else that could make Julia's record-breaking song sound like a torture method rather than a beautiful ballad.

It seemed like they had been listening to Zone's voice for an hour, but when Wedge dared to concentrate on the words he realised that Zone had just finished the first two lines. He was horrified to find that the man intended to continue.

"Stop!" he screamed. Zone glanced at him as though Wedge had just insulted him in a most terrible manner.

"It's just that…" Wedge hesitated, trying to sum up his thoughts on Zone's voice in a way that wouldn't sound completely heartless. "That was enough for me to decide that I don't think you've got the right sort of sound for this band; that's all."

Zone huffed and crossed his arms angrily.

Biggs finally found the strength to open his eyes and pull his hands off his ears.

"Is it over?" he moaned, luckily in a quiet enough voice that Zone did not hear him.

Wedge was two seconds away from telling Zone and Watts to get out of his and Biggs's house, when the redhead approached him with a hopeful smile on his face and a look in his eyes which came dangerously close to the one puppies wore when trying to con a potential owner.

"Please sir," he practically begged Wedge. "He's a lot better at playing the bass than he is at singing."

"He'd better be," Biggs moaned in the background.

Zone plucked at the strings of his bass guitar, letting out a murdered chord which rang through the house and seemed almost comparable to his singing.

"Whoops," Zone muttered. "Guess it needs tuning."

Zone fiddled with his bass for a few minutes while Watts dragged Biggs and Wedge over to the synthesizer.

"I hope you don't mind," Watts said. "But I made a recording of part of your performance at the tavern yesterday. I did some fiddling around with it, mixed in some lines that I recorded with Zone a few years ago, and this is what I came up with."

Watts pressed a few buttons on the machine in front of them. In their limited experience Wedge and Biggs could only figure out what half of them were supposed to be doing. Sound soon emerged from the player, and Wedge listened to the track critically.

It wasn't too bad, Wedge realised with some surprise. He wasn't exactly sure how something like this worked, but Watts seemed to have picked up all of Biggs's strengths while giving the song a distinct flavour, completely different to the one it had originally had when they had performed it on stage.

"Not bad," Biggs commented, echoing Wedge's thoughts.

Meanwhile, Zone had finished tuning his bass guitar, and he wandered over to the other three men, plucking experimentally to begin with, but soon the tune took the form of a bass-line to match the track that Watt had created. At first it was rough, but it soon smoothed out, matching the track perfectly.

"I'm sorry guys," Zone said as the track came to an end, even though Wedge couldn't pick that much wrong with the other man's playing, especially considering how impromptu it had been. "It's been a while since I played a guitar. I guess I'm still a little rusty."

Wedge and Biggs glanced at each other as though seeking their friends' opinion, before grinning widely and racing to grab their own instruments.

Less than an hour later, the band, now with four members, had recorded two new tracks and received half a dozen complaints from the neighbours.

-(-0-)-

Wedge frowned at the nearly empty sheet of paper in front of him. An entire hour of thinking had resulted in two lines of lyrics and nothing else apart from the sensation that he really wasn't making any progress.

The band itself was doing fine. Over the past couple of weeks the four of them had worked out where they all stood with one another. Luckily Zone and Watts had their own funds, so Biggs's pocket was going to have to stretch any further than it already did. They had all come to an unspoken agreement that no-one would bring up Galbadia, Timber or the resistance, which was enough to keep some sort of peace between them, and Zone and Watts now knew Going Down With You as well as Wedge and Biggs did.

They even had a name now; Yes Sir, although the name had come around quite by accident. Wedge remembered the happening fondly. A hotel manager had been asking Zone and Watts about the possibility of the band performing in a small bar that formed part of his hotel for a couple of days.

Zone and Watts had been asked the name of the band. Zone had deferred the question to Watts, telling his friend to give the hotel manager their band's name. Watts, in typical form had responded with a hearty 'yes sir!' The hotel manager had thought this to be the band's actual name, and somehow it had stuck.

What Yes Sir didn't have however, was more than one original song. It was this that had Wedge glued to the kitchen table right now, in an attempt to come up with something that was as good as Going Down With You.

Wedge threw the pen in the air a couple of times, before he reread what he had written and threw the piece of paper in the bin.

The phone chose that exact moment to ring. Wedge contemplated taking a short break from song-writing in order to attend to it, but Biggs rushed down the stairs towards the machine before Wedge could stand up from the table.

"Hello?" Wedge heard Biggs answer the phone.

He grabbed another piece of paper and tried to think, keeping half an ear on the conversation Biggs was currently involved in.

It was impossible to make out what exactly Biggs and the person on the other end of the line were talking about. All that drifted back to Wedge's ears was a continuous string of 'yeah's, and 'sure thing's until Biggs finally finished the conversation with "So, that's three on Saturday then? Right, I'll check with the rest of the band, but chances are they'll be up for it. Yeah, I'll let you know about it tomorrow then? Right; talk to you tomorrow."

Wedge watched as Biggs strutted into the room, an enormous smile on his face.

"What is it?" Wedge asked.

"Wedge my friend!" Biggs said excitedly. "We have just been invited to perform at a music festival!"

-(-0-)-

"A music festival?" Zone asked. "And you're sure they said the 'Day in the Forest' music festival?"

"Yeah," Biggs answered. "Cool huh?"

"That is better than cool!" Zone screamed. "The Timber 'Day in the Forest' music festival is enormous. Its three days of non-stop music on three different stages! Pretty much everyone in Timber between the ages of eighteen and thirty will be there! This is our big break!"

"This is going to be awesome!" Watts squealed like an excited child.

"We're only performing one song," Wedge pointed out.

"But still," Biggs sighed. "I've saved the best news for last! We're performing right before Kupo and the Clever Fiends!"

"How is that good?" Watts asked, a confused look appearing on his face.

"Everyone will be at our stage already, waiting for the Clever Fiends' performance," Biggs explained. "We will be performing to a crowd of thousands!"

Wedge's eyes glazed over for a moment as he imagined the roar of the crowd, the bright white of the spotlights and the feeling of performing in front of thousands of people.

His face became pale and he quickly fled from the room.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he announced.

"Looks like it's just as well Biggs is our frontman then, doesn't it sir?" Watts said cheerily.

-(-0-)-

The day of the festival dawned with not a cloud in the sky. The weather was great, there hadn't been any major disasters in Timber over the past few days and Yes Sir was completely confident in the performance they had been practising.

The first thing that Biggs realised when he awoke however, was not the happy singing of the birds outside their window, or the bright blue sky above, but the fact that he had a splitting headache.

He rolled over in bed, shoving his head underneath a pillow and moaning when the pain only became worse. After a couple of minutes of pure pain the door to the bedroom opened and Wedge entered, practically skipping as he moved to kneel beside Biggs's bed.

"Good morning sir!" the guitarist said, shoving something which smelled suspiciously like coffee towards Biggs's hands.

Biggs removed the pillow from over his head and took one sniff of the liquid before his stomach tightened and threatened to revolt against him. He moaned and covered his head once more, willing the morning, the coffee and Wedge's energetic mood to disappear.

"Are you all right sir?" Wedge asked, peeking underneath the pillow. Biggs caught a glimpse of Wedge's worried face before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing today, and tried his hardest to smile at Wedge.

"I'll be fine," Biggs answered groggily, moving from underneath the pillow and his pile of blankets. He grabbed the mug of coffee in both hands and tried taking a sip of the hot liquid. His stomach let out a strong protest at this action, and before his lips had even touched the ceramic his face had turned a colour which Wedge swiftly decided was not at all healthy.

"Are you sure?" Wedge asked, taking the mug back before Biggs could drop it.

"I have to be," Biggs said stubbornly. "I can't let Yes Sir down, can I?"

"Here," Wedge said, gently helping Biggs to lie back down and tucking the blankets back up around him. "We've still got hours before the concert. Get a bit more rest and then see how you feel."

Biggs nodded a couple of times, before his eyes closed and he found sleep far quicker than he would have thought possible.

-(-0-)-

Three hours later Biggs found Wedge at the side of his bed, waking him with a gentle shake.

"Biggs," Wedge called gently. "Are you feeling any better?"

Biggs opened one unusually heavy eyelid, then the other, and moaned as the room and Wedge's face seemed to spin around him.

Wedge took one look at the bleary expression on Biggs's face and sighed.

"This," Wedge concluded. "Is not good."

-(-0-)-

Zone and Watts were already backstage at the festival when Wedge arrived later that day, supporting a very weak Biggs with one arm.

"Did the two of you get drunk again last night?" Zone asked as soon as he saw the state Biggs was in.

"No," Wedge snapped back. "As a matter of fact, we didn't."

"I'm just feeling a little tired," Biggs moaned, trying to shake Wedge off him. "I'll be right in a couple of minutes."

Biggs stood by himself for a few moments, surprising Wedge slightly when he didn't collapse or fall over.

"I'll be fine," Biggs repeated. "I have to be."

"The other band just finished a few minutes ago," Watts told Wedge and Biggs. "The stage hands are setting our stuff up now."

"This is going to be huge," Zone commented, shaking his head as he peeked through the black curtains to have a look at the size of the crowd. It was as big as they had been expecting.

Wedge looked over at Biggs, checking to see if his friend had made any progress. The colour had not returned to Biggs's face however. If anything, he was looking paler.

"Biggs," Wedge called softly. The singer very slowly turned his head to look at the guitarist, before his eyes rolled up to the back of his head, and he fell down to the floor.

Wedge rushed to Biggs just in time to catch him before his head hit the floor. He placed one hand on the man's forehead and pulled it back quickly, away from the startling heat he found there.

"How's our front-man doing?" Zone asked, just before he turned around and saw the state Biggs was in. "Oh."

"He's out cold," Wedge told them, "and he's got a bad fever."

"Damn it!" Zone cursed. "If it was anyone else that was down then the back-up tape could cover it, but with Biggs gone…"

"We're screwed, right sir?" Watts tried to make it sound optimistic, despite the overwhelming downside to what he just said and the situation in general.

"Don't worry," Zone said. "One of us can take over from Biggs and we can just let the back-up tape play. I will volunteer to put the bass down for one performance. It will be a sacrifice, but I'm sure I will…"

"NO!" Watts and Wedge interrupted at the same time.

"It's just that you've got such delicate vocal chords sir," Watts said, trying to smooth over the obviously insulted Zone. "And you've been working so hard that we wouldn't want you straining yourself or anything."

"Well then," Zone folded his arms and looked horribly put-out, "I guess the other choice is you Wedge."

"Me?" Wedge looked mildly shocked. "I can't sing! Well, not good enough to lead, at least. Besides…" he looked down as Biggs moaned and twitched in his sleep. A layer of sweat was beginning to form on his forehead. Wedge brushed Biggs's rapidly dampening hair out of his face and sighed. "I can't leave Biggs alone back here when he's like this."

"So that just leaves…" Both Wedge and Zone turned to look at the last member of the band, who was twiddling his fingers and watching Biggs with some concern.

"Do you think Biggs is going to be all right sir?" Watts asked Wedge.

"Watts," Wedge said very slowly, for the time being ignoring the man's question. "Have you ever sung before?"

-(-0-)-

"This is such a bad idea," Zone muttered as he set up the back-up tape.

Watts joined him on stage to a small spattering of applause. Being the band member closest to the back, Watts hadn't exactly dressed to look like a star. His hair, which was rapidly growing down his back was tied back in a rough ponytail and shoved under a black beanie. He wore a simple pair of jeans and a black shirt, covered in his trademark yellow vest. Overall, the outfit looked pretty horrible. Zone just hoped that the audience wouldn't notice.

Wedge sat on the side of the stage, Biggs's head resting in his lap. He watched nervously as Watts flicked the microphone cord back away from his legs.

_Don't worry_, he told himself. _Watts has been there with you during every rehearsal and has listened to the track who knows how many times while mixing it. He knows what to do._

He didn't even dare wonder what Watts's singing voice would prove to be like. He prayed it wasn't anything like Zone's.

The musical introduction started up in the background, and there was a moment in which Wedge's heart practically stopped.

_Please let him be good_, Wedge prayed to whatever was listening.

The introduction finished, and Watts began singing, just a moment later than Wedge had been expecting.

"It would be so easy to just walk away, pretend this never happened," Watts paused for another second before continuing, "and leave it all behind."

_I didn't plan for there to be a pause in the middle of that line,_ Wedge thought, _but damn does it sound good like that!_

Wedge froze, unable to move as the words to his song poured out from Watts's mouth. It didn't sound at all like it did when Biggs sang it. Somehow, it was better. While Biggs's voice was loud and powerful, Watts's voice seemed softer and strangely familiar, hauntingly beautiful in a way that made goose-bumps appear on Wedge's skin. There was something about the way that he sang that made Wedge believe that Watts knew what he was singing about.

Watts felt the song as much as Wedge did, and just by listening to him sing, you could feel it.

"'Cause I…" Watts launched into the chorus. For a moment Wedge feared that he wouldn't hit some of the more difficult notes, but then they emerged from Watts's mouth in the sweetest, purest tone Wedge had ever imagined. "I feel like going down with you."

The crowd was completely silent as the second verse began, not a single one of them daring to even open their mouth as Watts continued.

In Wedge's lap Biggs's eyes began to slowly flutter open, but Wedge was too awestruck by Watts's performance to notice. The first thing Biggs saw was the transfixed look on Wedge's face. He followed his friends gaze to see Watts on stage.

_Hold on a second!_ Biggs thought. _That's supposed to be _me_ out there! How come Watts is holding _my _microphone!_

Then the wave of sound hit Biggs and he relaxed once more.

_This kid is good_, Biggs thought as Watts launched into the chorus once more. Screams came from the audience this time, and even though it was the first time most of them had heard it, some of them began to hum along with the tune.

"And I!" Watts took the notes up a register, sending several people in the audience completely wild. "I feel like sticking round when you," Wedge thought he saw Watts glance back at Zone as he sang. "When you screw up again like you always do!"

Where in Hyne's name had all that hunger come from?

-(-0-)-

Meanwhile, there was a certain person in the audience, that unlike the girls going wild around her, just stood back and listened to the performance with a critical ear, noting tinier things which even the most enthusiastic fan would quickly pass over in favour of the more obvious and much grander big picture.

She was momentarily distracted by a strand of her blonde hair blowing across her face. She pulled it back and pinned it back in its correct place behind her ear before turning her attention back to the performance.

The voice was a little raw, she thought critically, but it could be perfected with just a little bit of work. She waited a little while longer as the singer continued with the reprise and the final chorus, and when the song eventually wound down, she quite calmly walked around to the side of the stage.

-(-0-)-

Watts placed the microphone back in its stand before walking back to the side of the stage. He realised that his hands were shaking quite visibly because of his nervousness. He hoped no-one in the audience had realised, and he was a little worried that he hadn't gotten a couple of the notes quite right.

He stood in front of the rest of the band, his nervous state quite obvious to anyone that looked at him. Wedge still sat on the floor with Biggs in his lap, even though the band's usual vocalist was conscious once more. Zone stood near the side, his arms folded as his gaze completely fixed on his partner.

"Did I do all right?" Watts asked the rest of the band nervously.

Wedge and Biggs glanced at each for a second, as if checking to make sure that each other's ears had heard the same thing as their own.

"All right?" Wedge practically screamed. "You did brilliantly! That was…"

"Amazing!" Biggs finished for him.

Watts's eyes turned to the last member of the group, looking for the opinion of the person that obviously mattered the most to him.

"Yeah," Zone said half-heartedly, shrugging as though he had been completely unaffected by the performance. "You did all right."

"Really?" Watts sounded like an excited little kid.

"I'd say you did well enough," a feminine voice announced from the shadows, "although we might have to work a little on your image."

"Who the hell are you?" Zone exploded. "Who said you could come back here?"

The woman stepped out of the shadows, revealing a body that was quite slim, a face that looked a little childish and hair that was tied back in two enormous and over-the-top curly ponytails. She wore a small pair of spectacles and a rather business-like black top and skirt. Her attire seemed to create a rather interesting conflict with her otherwise playful looking nature.

The woman ignored Zone's protests and stepped straight past him. Her high-heels would have crushed Zone's feet if he hadn't moved them in time.

"What's your name?" she asked Watts.

"Umm…" the man looked incredibly apprehensive of the situation. "Watts," he finally answered. "What's yours?"

"My name is Teniki," the woman announced with a rather cute little wrinkle of her nose, "and I am interested in giving you a recording contract."

"What?" Wedge and Zone screamed at the same time. Biggs's head still seemed to be spinning so quickly that all he could do was frown at Teniki in confusion.

"Did you hear that Biggs?" Wedge said, squeezing the man in his arms enthusiastically. "A recording contract!"

"Not you three," Teniki sighed, as though the men had to be insane to think otherwise. "Just Watts."

"But…" Watts hesitated, glancing back at the other three members of Yes Sir. "I can't…"

"Damn it!" Biggs cursed, trying to stand up and remove himself from Wedge's arms. He only made it half way before he was forced to fall back on top of the guitarist. Biggs scowled at the fact that his body wasn't working properly at such an important moment.

"This is _our_ band," Biggs said, gesturing to Wedge. "You can't just…"

"Really?" Teniki asked, looking down at Biggs as though she wanted to step on him as she would a small insect. "If it's _your_ band, then why didn't I see the two of you performing out there?"

Wedge opened his mouth to reply, but Watts did for him.

"Biggs is sick," the redhead explained in a way that reminded Wedge of a child that was explaining something to an angry teacher. "He's usually the one that sings, but he couldn't today. Wedge writes our songs and plays the guitar, but he was looking after Biggs. That's why it was only the two of us out there today."

"And you?" Teniki asked Zone.

"Zone's really important too!" Watts protested. "It wouldn't be Yes Sir without him."

"Really?" Teniki said, gazing at the four men in front of her. "Yes Sir is it? Well then, depending on how well the four of you perform together, then I guess I'm offering Yes Sir a recording contract."


	11. Chapter Ten

AN: Oh my dear sweet lord. It's an update after... how long? You can all thank fightingcomet for this one. This chapter is dedicated to her for giving me the extra push I needed to finish this chapter.

Disclaimer: Honestly, do you still need one? I think we get the message by now.

* * *

"Art and power will go on as they have done – we will make day out of night, time out of space, and space out of time."  
- Emerson

"What!?" Zone, Wedge and Biggs all yelled at once.

"Honestly," Teniki laughed, throwing some of her hair over one shoulder and giving the four men a wicked grin. "Can't any of you understand plain English? I said I was interested in giving you guys a recording contract."

Wedge and Biggs glanced at one another, both trying to make sure that the other was hearing the same thing they were and thereby eliminating any chance that this was some sort of cruel dream.

"A voice as captivating as the one your friend Watts has is a hard thing to come by, and the fact that he just sung live is a bonus," Teniki continued, leaning close to Watts and giving him a predatory grin. "He seems like a pretty decent lyricist to me too."

"But I wrote the lyrics," Wedge began to say, but his protests were ignored by Teniki, who was too busy getting close to Watts to listen to a single word any of the others had to say.

"And," Teniki continued, throwing an arm around Watts and another around Zone, "with a good wardrobe advisor, some make-up and a bit of photo editing, you four could probably make decent pin-up boys as well."

"Pin up boy?!" Wedge exclaimed. "Me?"

For some reason Biggs blushed and mumbled something, but Wedge didn't catch anything past "well yeah, I mean, you are…" before Biggs's voice dropped so low that Wedge couldn't hear enough of anything to understand it.

Zone preened, and did his best to look desirable in front of Teniki. The woman merely ignored him though, dropping the arm that had previously been touching him, deciding to now focus all of her attention on Watts.

"So, if you don't usually sing, then what is it you do?" she asked the redhead.

"I play the synthesizer," Watts answered shyly.

Teniki tilted her head this way and that, looking over Watts again and again, before sighing and shaking her head.

"We can't have that," she said. "From now on you'll have to focus on your singing, got it?"

Watts nodded. Teniki smiled kindly at him, and then turned to frown at Wedge, Biggs still resting in his lap, and the rather put out Zone.

"So what does that make the rest of you then?" she asked them.

"Lead guitar and lyricist," Wedge answered, holding up a hand. He then pointed down to Biggs. "Drummer." He then gestured at Zone, who stopped frowning for just a moment. "And bassist."

"Right," Teniki said, nodding. "Which one of you will be taking over Watts's job on the synth?"

The three of them looked backwards and forwards at one another, none of them having an answer for Teniki's question.

"None of us have any experience whatsoever with a synthesizer," Wedge explained, hoping that this piece of information wouldn't completely ruin the already precarious chance they had with Teniki.

Teniki frowned for a moment, before shrugging.

"Guess we'll just have to find a fifth member for Yes Sir then," Teniki concluded.

Biggs squirmed in Wedge's lap, and Wedge knew that the drummer was just as put out by the idea of having a new band member as he was.

"Don't look so worried," Teniki told them. "It's not like I'll force you to work with somebody you don't get along with. I'll set up some auditions and you can pick out someone you like from amongst them."

Teniki gazed over in the direction of the crowd, where some chanting had started in an effort to bring Kupo and the Clever Fiends on stage. Her face suddenly lost all of the hyperactivity she had displayed before, and took on an unbelievably sincere smile for the smallest of moments. The moment however, was soon over, and she turned to grin quite maniacally at her latest acquisitions.

"Well, from the sounds the audience was making before, you've already got a fairly decent fan-base," she commented. "You've got naturally decent looks and some all right talent, so the rest can be fixed once I've got you under my control."

She glanced down at Biggs, and chewed somewhat anxiously on her bottom lip.

"I would have liked to have taken you back to the studio straight away, but I doubt he's up for it right now, is he?" Wedge gave her a sad look that said more to agree with her than any words might have.

Teniki sighed.

"Oh well!" she said, reaching down into her jacket in a suspiscous enough position to have Zone's eyes widening gleefully, only for Zone to become disappointed when Teniki pulled out a business card and pen from a hidden pocket and scribbled something down. She then tucked the business card under Watts's beanie and winked.

"Just rock up to studio twelve at that address tomorrow afternoon at three and we'll get everything sorted out. The next couple of days are pretty busy for me, so don't call me unless it's urgent. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Teniki glanced over at one of the men accompanying Kupo and the Clever Fiends, then with a wink and a grin Teniki turned around and left Yes Sir by themselves.

"That," Biggs said as the band watched Teniki bounce out of sight. "Was really unexpected."

"Yeah," Wedge agreed.

After a few seconds it was almost as though Teniki hadn't even been there at all, apart from the business card that remained in Watts's hands, undeniable proof that Yes Sir had indeed been offered a recording contract.

-(-0-)-

Biggs was immediately taken back home, and quite forcefully told by Wedge that he was to spend the rest of the afternoon and the next morning recovering. Biggs reluctantly agreed, despite the fact that he felt far too excited to rest; his agreement partially because he had convinced himself that there was always the chance that Wedge would be playing nursemaid to him for the rest of the afternoon.

In a way, Biggs was right. Of course, it didn't involve Wedge wearing the same outfit as Biggs had conjured up in a few of his more delirious imaginings, but for the entire time he was stuck in bed, Wedge ran backwards and forwards, taking his temperature with a thermometer he had borrowed from Zone and Watts, and bringing him hot coffee, or water, or whatever else Biggs decided he wanted.

Biggs contemplated getting sick more often, especially when Wedge insisted on feeding him the hot chicken soup he had cooked up. That had certainly been an interesting half hour, Biggs would think afterwards. He was sure he had blushed quite a few times when his thoughts had strayed in certain directions that he was pretty sure they shouldn't have been heading in, like how cute Wedge was when he was worried, and how much Wedge currently resembled a worried mother, and how the only way this situation could really be improved would be if Wedge really had been wearing the lacey costume of Biggs's daydreams.

He didn't speak these thoughts though. Of course not.

Because he was pretty sure that if he did, then not only would Wedge's caring attention stop, but he'd probably be ignored for the rest of his life, if not murdered.

-(-0-)-

"Was it just me," Biggs remarked nearly a week later after the seventh auditioned synthesizer player had finally been persuaded to leave the room, "or did that last guy play like a four year old with a thing for heavy metal."

Wedge just moaned and leaned forward so that his head rested on the table in front of them. Biggs poked Wedge's half-collapsed form, trying to ascertain if the last auditioner's music had indeed made Wedge's brain explode. Wedge didn't move.

"Yes sir," Watts agreed, his face betraying the fact that he hadn't liked the music any more than his bandmates. "He did."

From somewhere inside the pile of arms in which Wedge had buried himself in despair a muffled voice cried out.

"You'd think," Wedge moaned. "That there would be at least one half decent synthesizer player who would be suitable. We're not that picky or difficult to get along with, are we?"

"That girl that came in about an hour ago was pretty good," Zone said, sounding just a little less tired than his band-mates. "Maybe we should have just…"

"No!" Wedge screamed, his head immediately coming up from where it had been laying on the table. Biggs, who was still leaning closely to his friend, jumped back in fright. "We're a rock band, damn it! We're not going to have… you know… that sort of music just wouldn't… she's just not right for Yes Sir!"

No-one mentioned the fact that the woman in question had been slimmer than average, with long blonde hair and over-sized breasts that Zone had not been able to resist staring at for the entire audition.

"I think Wedge's reaction means 'no," Biggs said, the ghost of a smile forming on his face.

"So," Zone said bitterly, apparently put out that no-one had even considered his suggestion. "I take it Yes Sir is officially our name now?"

"Why not?" Biggs shrugged. "It's what everyone knows us as, even if it is a pretty crappy name. I'm pretty sure that Teniki put it on the contract too."

"I'm sorry sirs," Watts began to say, his eyes watering and appearing to get dangerously close to letting tears spill out onto his cheeks, "I didn't mean to give the band a name, honestly, but the man did want to know and…"

"It's okay," Wedge interrupted. "It's not such a bad name. In fact, it kinda suits us, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it's not too bad," Zone agreed. "I mean, there are worse names in the world."

Watts brightened now that Zone had given his approval, letting out a smile that no-one could miss. Biggs raised an eyebrow at this action, before he frowned in a way which Wedge knew meant the ex-soldier was thinking very seriously about something.

"Holy Shiva!" an excited voice rang throughout the room. The four members of Yes Sir looked towards the door to see a man of about Wedge's age, with a friendly grin, sandy blonde hair and a boyish face.

"Wedge!? Biggs?!" the man screamed excitedly, like a person that had been reunited with a couple of long lost relatives.

At the mention of their names, Zone turned to stare violently at Wedge and Biggs, as though the man's sudden appearance and strange enthusiasm was all their fault. Watts just looked backwards and forwards between the other people in the room, scratching his head and wondering if he had missed something important.

"Do I… know you?" Biggs asked slowly as he tried to remember if he had ever in his life seen this man's face before.

The man had not heard Biggs's question, as he was too busy running across the room and wrapping Wedge in an enormous hug that threatened to cut off the air supply to Wedge's brain and legs.

No-one else in the room noticed when Biggs jumped to his feet and scowled in the direction of the newcomer, his face turning a strange red colour that was decidedly unhealthy.

"I'm sorry," the blonde said sheepishly as he realised that Wedge was having problems. He let go of Wedge, who began coughing and wheezing in an effort to supply his oxygen deprived lungs with air again.

"I guess I got a little excited there, huh?" Wedge's assailant grinned.

Wedge frowned and tried to concentrate on the man's voice. He knew he had heard it somewhere before, even if the face that went with it was completely unfamiliar. There was something familiar about the way his bones had crunched when he had been hugged, too.

"Tavis!?" Wedge guessed.

"You do remember me!" Tavis said, grabbing Wedge in another painful hug. It may not have been such a strange thing that Tavis remembered Wedge, if it were not for the fact that Tavis had never seen any more of Wedge's face than the inch or two which wasn't hidden beneath his uniform visor. When he came to this realisation Wedge didn't know whether to be impressed or slightly frightened. He certainly wouldn't have been able to recognise Tavis if he hadn't first been prompted by Tavis's quite memorable way of greeting friends.

"Is he an old friend of yours sir?" Watts turned to face Biggs, and smiled warmly, at least for the few moments. He then noticed that Biggs looked as though he was two seconds away from either exploding or strangling the newcomer. Watts was almost sure he could see steam rising from out of Biggs's ears. He decided it was probably safer not to say another word.

Biggs opened his mouth to speak, although what would have emerged from his mouth at that moment would probably be called yelling. Watts winced in fear of what was bound to come out of the percussionist's mouth; but whatever Biggs was going to say died on his tongue as Tavis let his captive go and Wedge fell to the floor gasping for breath, leaving Tavis to turn and smile warmly at Biggs.

"And of course I haven't forgotten about you Major Biggs!" Tavis said cheerily, before noticing the scowl on Biggs's face and turning red. "Oops, I forgot. You're not a Major anymore, are you? Are you still a Sergeant?"

"He's not anything," Wedge put in, ignoring the fact that the expression on Biggs's face then changed from a scowl to a look similar to one puppies adopt if they've been kicked or scolded. "We quit the army," Wedge explained.

"You mean you couldn't stand General Almasy either?" Tavis gasped. "He was horrible. I just couldn't keep on taking orders from him, and I wasn't ever getting paid, so I quit as well."

"You quit!?" Wedge asked, unable to believe that someone that had been so enthusiastic would give up on the army.

"Mm hm," Tavis answered quietly, as though he was ashamed of the fact. "You see," he continued, "it all started when the Elite Squadron was asked to help guard the train that President Deling was on, but I don't think the President liked me much, and then General Barron kept getting angry at me, and he docked my pay twice, and then some revolutionaries tried to kidnap the president…"

Zone and Watts both let out a triumphant whoop at this which led Wedge and Biggs to wonder if they hadn't actually been that revolutionary group.

"But it didn't matter since it turned out that what I had been guarding was only a decoy, but I lost my pay for the next four months because of it, and so now I'm never going to be able to afford to ask Alita to marry me, and then Seifer Almasy started turning the army into one big joke, so I thought 'what's the point any more' and I quit because I'm no good as a soldier anyway…"

Tavis had been coming closer and closer to crying through his entire rambling speech, and finally broke down on Wedge's shoulder, sobbing his heart out.

"It wasn't bad of me to quit, was it Wedge?" Tavis sobbed.

"No," Wedge sighed, nervously patting Tavis's back. "It wasn't."

Wedge looked around the room nervously, before catching Biggs's eye and mouthing 'help'.

Biggs smiled widely for no reason that the other members of Yes Sir could identify and walked briskly over to the two ex-soldiers, swiftly prying Tavis away from Wedge and apparently taking extreme pleasure in doing so.

"Now, now," Biggs comforted the younger soldier. "You came here to play the synthesizer didn't you?"

Tavis nodded as Biggs led him towards the set up in the corner of the room.

"Show us what you can do then!" he said encouragingly, shoving Tavis in the direction of the instrument and quite confidently walking back over to stand beside Wedge.

Tavis took a deep breath in, and then breathed out very slowly, his hands coming to rest on the synth as he did so. He concentrated for a few moments, and then began to play.

By no more than a minute later, every other person in the room had decided that they had found the fifth member of Yes Sir.

-(-0-)-

"I mean, I don't like him personally," Biggs began.

"You don't like him?" Wedge interrupted. "Why not? I mean, his personality is a little bit extreme, but I think he's very likable."

"Let me finish!" Biggs snapped, causing Wedge to wonder what exactly he had said to make Biggs so angry. "I don't like him personally," he began again, "but there was no doubt that he was by far the best synth player we've heard all day."

Wedge smiled warmly at Biggs.

"And Zone and Watts don't seem to mind him either," he commented, glancing over at the other side of the room, where the three other men were talking, "despite the fact that Tavis is a 'pawn of the Galbadian fascists' as they called the two of us only this morning."

"Yeah," Biggs agreed, his eyes narrowing as he watched the three of them. "About that."

"About what?" Wedge asked. "The army?"

"No," Biggs said, finally removing his gaze from the room's other occupants to look Wedge in the eye. "About Zone and Watts."

"Huh?" Wedge asked, wondering if they'd done something to upset Biggs and he hadn't noticed. "What about Zone and Watts?"

"Have you noticed?" Biggs asked him. "The two of them are a little, you know, close."

"Um, yeah they are," Wedge agreed, wondering what Biggs's point was. "Well, they've been friends for a long time, so I guess that's to be expected, right?"

"No," Biggs said, shaking his head and leaning closer to Wedge as though he was sharing some sort of unspeakable secret. "I mean like, really close." "

Huh?" Wedge questioned, completely missing Biggs's innuendo.

Biggs threw an arm around Wedge's shoulders then, glanced back to make sure that Zone, Watts and Tavis weren't looking their way, and leaned over to whisper in Wedge's ear.

"I think that they might be lovers," Biggs said.

"What?!" Wedge exclaimed, pulling back and looking over his shoulder to stare at Zone and Watts in a new light. Zone caught his gaze, and raised an eyebrow. Wedge smiled nervously at him, raising one hand in a lazy parody of a wave, and then turned back to Biggs.

"I'm not sure," Biggs continued. "But you know, the only person that really matters to Watts is Zone, and Zone's always nicer around Watts too, and there are those little moments when the two of them share a look or something. It doesn't seem like much at first, but when you add all the pieces together..."

"Come to think of it," Wedge whispered. "You might be right."

The two of them were silent for a moment as the two of them contemplated the idea, both trying to think if they could remember anything which would tell them for sure whether or not their band mates were a couple.

"But Zone's got all those magazines, and he's always flirting," Wedge pointed out.

"So," Biggs said. "It could be a cover up."

"I guess you're right," Wedge sighed, "but now you've got me wondering whether or not it's true."

"Then we'll just have to keep an eye on them," Biggs said. "Let me know if they do anything which would give us an answer either way."

"You too," Wedge said, feeling like a terrible gossip.

"Right," Biggs agreed. "Then this makes operation Zone-Watts a go, okay?"

Wedge nodded.

-(-0-)-

Zone shook his head as Biggs threw an arm around Wedge again and began whispering once more. He was sure that there was something strange going on between his band-mates. They were always whispering to one another, or throwing their arms around one another. Then there was their disturbingly frequent glomp-tackle-or-otherwise-throw-yourself-on-one-another-and-then-tickle-or-grope-one-another-until-you're-both-giggling-like-a-couple-of-schoolgirls bouts.

"Really?" Watts responded to something Tavis had just said, bringing Zone's attention back to their conversation. "An actual fight? They always get along so well that it just seems weird to think of them fighting."

"Yeah," Tavis continued. "Wedge was really upset about it too for the longest time, and I think that at one stage he was going to leave, but then something must have happened, even though I have no idea what, because they seem to be perfectly fine now."

"Huh?" Zone questioned, fearing that he'd missed a vital part of the conversation, because he now had no idea what it was that Watts and Tavis were talking about.

"Oh," Watts exclaimed when he noticed the confused look on his partner's face. "Tavis was just talking about what Wedge and Biggs were like when they were in the army!"

"Yeap!" Tavis confirmed. "They've always been so devoted to each other, ever since I first met them in Deling City."

"Right," Zone agreed, "but when you mean 'devoted' do you mean couple devoted because I've been wondering…"

"Oh yeah," Tavis said, meaning every word as he continued, "Wedge and Biggs have been a couple for ages."

Watts blushed, and Zone frowned as they both stared at Tavis.

"What?" Tavis asked when he saw the unexpected and strange looks on the two men's faces. "Didn't the two of you know? I thought it was obvious."

"Huh?" Zone said, coughing quietly and nodding. "Well, yeah, it is kind of obvious, don't you think so Watts? I mean, I've known that they were a couple from the start. Haven't you?"

"Oh, of course sir," Watts agreed, although he looked nervous about it. "I mean, they are so open about their feelings for each other, right?"

The three of them glanced over to the other side of the room, where sure enough, Biggs's arm was still draped over Wedge's shoulder.

-(-0-)-

Two hours, a couple of very important pieces of paper and half a dozen much-needed cups of coffee later, Yes Sir's attention had yet to be diverted.

No-one in the room seemed to notice that Teniki was the only one paying their newest band member any attention. Biggs kept glancing over at Zone and Watts, as though at any second they might make a move which would give them away. Occasionally he would poke or elbow Wedge when Zone or Watts made what to him seemed like a significant movement, but the guitarist had yet to see anything which he would have regarded as proof either way.

On the other side of the small studio, Zone found himself glancing over at Wedge and Biggs, seeing them in a new light now that Tavis had told his bandmates were as a couple. The more he looked, the more he realised that they couldn't be anything but. After all, Biggs kept touching Wedge for no reason that Zone could work out, poking the guitarist and nudging him, and Wedge wasn't doing anything to discourage it.

Occasionally the band would glance back to the centre of the room, where Teniki had previously been talking to Tavis, but was now circling him like a vulture.

Teniki looked Tavis up and down. She then moved approximately two feet to the side, and looked him up and down a second time. Then she moved right behind him and looked him up and down again, making the rest of the room very nervous when she spent just a little too long on the down part.

She then grabbed him by the hand and made him stand near the other four members of the band. She leaned her head this way and that for a few minutes, before nodding and giving the band a grin which didn't seem all that friendly.

"All right," she concluded. "He's good looking enough, and he fits your image. He'll do."

"But," Wedge objected, feeling extremely uneasy about the situation. "Don't you want to know if he's any good on the keyboard?"

"Nah," Teniki waved her hand, dismissing the idea immediately. "He must be good otherwise you guys wouldn't have picked him, right?"

Wedge and Biggs glanced at each other. Zone and Watts merely grinned, as though finding Tavis could be credited entirely to them. Tavis was now smiling shyly, occasionally glancing nervously over to where Teniki had rested her hand on his shoulder.

"I also have some great news for you guys," Teniki said, winking as she did so. "I scored you a gig, opening for a really big name group."

All five male faces in the room brightened visably with this news.

"Really?" Wedge said.

"Who with?" Biggs asked.

"Kupo and the Clever Fiends!" Teniki announced, finally taking her hand off Tavis's shoulder to gesture wildly in the air. "You'll be their supporting act for the upcoming tour. I grabbed their manager right after you did that gig before them the other day."

Any excitement Wedge and Biggs had shown a few seconds ago quickly disappeared. Biggs shook his head, while Wedge just let his top half collapse onto the table.

Biggs looked down at the half-collapsed form of the guitarist and smiled.

"We're never going to be rid of those furballs, are we?"

-(-0-)-

"Damn," Biggs muttered as he peeked around the corner at a rather large and expectant crowd. He wasn't all that surprised to find that most of them were female, and carried with them a variety of furry backpacks, keyrings, hairclips and anything else that could be fashioned to resemble a cute fuzzy animal.

"I hate being a support band already," Biggs continued, letting out an extremely large sigh.

He looked over at Wedge, hoping to find some sort of agreement or sympathy coming from his friend. Wedge merely glanced at him, shrugged, and returned to tuning his guitar.

"They don't want to listen to us," Biggs continued, despite the fact that Wedge was apparently not paying any attention to what he was saying. "They're waiting for a bunch of cute furry animals. What are they going to think when a rock band full of smelly guys ten years older than them takes the stage."

"With any luck they'll think we're hot," Zone said, looking as though he was suspiciously close to drooling. "We are _so_ lucky, guys."

Wedge and Biggs both raised an eyebrow at this statement. Zone simply peeked out at the same audience Biggs had been looking at and grinned.

"The audience," Zone whispered. "Is completely full of beautiful young women! We could seriously see some action guys!"

"Zone!" a rather offended Tavis called from his place at the keyboard. "Most of those girls aren't even eighteen yet!"

"Yeah I know," Zone said, a very large grin settling on his face as his thoughts almost certainly turned in a direction that wasn't very innocent.

"Sir!" Watts exclaimed, looking almost hurt at what his friend had said.

Watts's tone of voice made Biggs's eyes widen, and he made sure to catch Wedge's eyes and point out what could possibly be seen as proof for his theory about Zone and Watts. Once again Wedge didn't seem to be all that convinced by it, and after a few seconds inspection of the bassist and lead singer, he simply shook his head and returned to what he had been doing.

"What?!" Zone continued, seemingly unaware that he had just been under Wedge and Biggs's combined inspections. "Don't tell me none of you are at all excited at the prospect of having female fans drooling at the mere sight of us. Teniki did say that she was going to try and turn us into pin-up boys after all. Just think of the possibilities!"

Wedge and Biggs shrugged similtaneously.

"I've already got a girlfriend," Tavis pointed out. His eyes glazed over, and he looked off into the distance with a dreamy look, as though he was seeing something no-one else could. "And I intend to keep it that way. In fact, I'm going to marry her one day."

Watts simply looked down at his feet as though embarrassed by the thought that he had somehow let his old friend down simply by not being as perverted as Zone.

"Well fine," Zone sulked. "More for me then."

"You're on in five," one of the stage hands announced, looking between the five men, wondering if he had disturbed something important.

"We'll be ready," Wedge commented, slinging his guitar strap over his head.

-(-0-)-

"Ooh!" a girl in the front row whined. "It's not them; it's just a bunch of smelly old guys!"

Biggs visibly sagged as his predictions were proved to be completely accurate, but not before shooting a smug look at Zone. If Zone noticed the look Biggs was giving him, he chose to ignore it.

Wedge found himself holding his guitar as close to his body as possible, as though the instrument was his one and only lifeline.

Watts hesitantly took the microphone in his hand, subconsciously fiddling with his clothes as he did so.

Teniki had delivered on her promise of improving their image, and the entire band was now wearing matching white shirts, black jeans that were almost too tight to squeeze into, and a variety of bangles and belts.

For a while Wedge was afraid that Watts had frozen. The singer simply stood there, clutching the microphone and staring out at the sea of faces. Zone sidled up to his friend, and nudged him as subtley as was possible in front of thousands of people.

This seemed to bring Watts out of whatever reverie he was stuck in. The redhead breathed in very slowly, before beginning to announce the band in a quiet, faltering voice.

"Hey," he began, fiddling with one of the bangles on his wrist as he did so. "My name's Watts, and I'm part of Yes Sir. We're going to play a couple of songs for you tonight."

Watts was visibly uncomfortable with the new image, although Wedge was sure that a few of the girls eyes had begun to roam up and down the band's frontman. Watts wasn't the only one receiving attention either. Wedge noticed one girl up the front, with dark hair and a spattering of freckles as her eyes landed straight on Biggs.

She seemed completely mesmerized, almost as though all of the breath had been stolen from her lungs. For a moment, Wedge wondered what it was that had her so transfixed.

He risked glancing back. Sure enough, Biggs was sitting behind the drumkit, as he should be. There wasn't anything all that extraordinary about him, especially when compared to the other band members, but still, as the spotlights reflected off the silver chain around the drummer's neck, Wedge thought that, just for a second, he saw the same thing as the girl in the audience.

Maybe Biggs had felt Wedge's eyes on him, because he chose that exact moment to glance up and meet Wedge's gaze. Wedge found himself blushing for no reason that he could identify, and he quickly turned back to face the audience, just in time to strike the first chord of Yes Sir's first support band performance.

-(-0-)-

The five members of Yes Sir stumbled off stage together. Behind them, the audience was still roaring. A few soft toys had been thrown on the stage as a few of the fans grew a little overexcited, and one particularly cute Moomba had managed to get caught on Wedge's guitar strings, and now hung their pathetically.

"We are sooooooo going to get lucky!" Zone roared happily, throwing an arm around Watts gleefully. "Watts my friend, we will never need to attend a desperate and dateless ball ever again!"

Biggs seemed to be on too much of a high to pick up on the fact that Zone's statement could potentially be seen to disprove his theory about the singer and the bassist. He strode along quite happily, occasionally flicking the Moomba on Wedge's guitar as though it had been placed there entirely for his amusement.

"They are going to be lined around the block for us!" Zone continued.

Biggs stopped playing with the soft toy for just long enough to give Kupo and the Clever Fiends a thumbs-up as they passed the other band on their way to the stage.

"I could have...!" Zone's excited exclamations ceased as Yes Sir came face to face with their manager.

Teniki stood in the middle of the wide hallway, her arms folded and a look on her face that let who cared to look know that she was anything but impressed. Biggs's hands dropped to his sides. Zone was silent.

"Congratulations," Teniki told them. The look on her face, however, said something completely different, and whatever it was, it was not nearly so kind.

"You've managed to win the love and respect of a couple of thousand teenagers," she continued, staring down each of the band members in turn. "That's definitely not a bad accomplishment; they're the best target audience you can get if you want fast growing sales figures and positive word of mouth, but don't get too far ahead of yourselves."

The members of Yes Sir took a few seconds to glance at each other nervously.

"No matter how many fans you get, that's not going to mean shit without an album, is it?" Teniki grinned as she said this last part, winking at Wedge as though this was some inside joke.

"So!" she said, placing one hand on Wedge's shoulder; the other on Tavis's. "What say you two start writing us an album, hmm?"

-(-0-)-

Wedge frowned, and stared at the piece of paper in front of him. It was still as blank as it had been an hour ago. The bin next to his chair however, was quickly filling up with scrunched up balls of paper that had either been covered in pointless doodles, or the first few lines of songs that Wedge had quickly judged to be so bad that they had been crossed out before so much as a verse could be put down in words.

He had never really had that much of a problem writing lyrics before, but then again, he had never been completely forced to write lyrics before. Back in Galbadia Garden it had always been more of a hobby; a creative outlet rather than something that absolutely had to be done by a certain point in time.

It had been over two weeks since their first opening for Kupo, and about the only progress Wedge had made was in coming to the conclusion that he really hated deadlines.

The soft thump of feet as they travelled down the nearby stairs alerted Wedge to the fact that his roommate had finally awoken. Wedge glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost two in the afternoon.

"Morning!" Biggs called out cheerily.

"Afternoon," Wedge corrected.

Biggs glanced at the clock, smiled as he realised that Wedge was right, and then shrugged.

"I haven't been asleep," Biggs said, attempting to defend his dignity. "I have been researching."

"What?" Wedge asked, looking over at his roommate as Biggs began to prepare some coffee. "What do you mean researching?"

Biggs grinned and held something up for Wedge to see. Wedge then realised what he hadn't before; Biggs was holding a couple of magazines; and not the sort that Wedge would have associated with the drummer.

"You've been reading teen magazines?" Wedge asked, scanning the covers. One bore the cute, cuddly faces of Kupo and the Clever Fiends, while an overly excited, highly made-up girl beckoned to the reader on the other.

"They are our fans Wedge," Biggs said, dropping both magazines on the table in front of Wedge. "Don't be so cold-hearted."

Wedge looked at the two magazines in front of him. They had landed exactly where his latest blank piece of paper had been.

"Besides," Biggs added as he continued to make the two coffees, "the real awesomeness happens when you see two little stories about half way through them."

The curiosity got the better of Wedge, and he picked up the first magazine, flicking through it idly.

"Page thirty-two," Biggs told Wedge as he placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of the guitarist.

Wedge flicked to the page Biggs had indicated, and grimaced.

"Kupo?" Wedge questioned. "Don't you think we see enough of those guys when we perform with them?"

Wedge grabbed the coffee that Biggs had made for him, and began savouring it slowly, relishing in the sudden rush of sugar and caffeine. Biggs had made it too strong again. For once, he was grateful.

Biggs pointed to a small corner of the double page spread.

"There," he said. "They mention us."

"'The support band, a new group known as 'Yes Sir', was well received," Wedge began to read, "though I, for one, couldn't work out why. They were mediocre at best. 'Eyes On Me' should never be screamed, especially by someone who looks...' Biggs, they hate us!"

Biggs took a seat opposite Wedge, and shrugged.

"There's no such thing as bad publicity, right?" he commented. "It's getting our name out there, and that's what matters."

Wedge clung to his cup of coffee, and tried to pretend that he could shrug off the bad review as easily as Biggs. Biggs caught the look in his friend's eyes with no problems however, and shoved the other magazine close to Wedge.

"That one's better," Biggs said. "Page 72 or something. We've got a little box on the page all to ourselves."

Wedge sighed as he found the page and began to read.

"Hey," he said after a few seconds of reading, now sounding much brighter. "It _is_ better, isn't it?"

Biggs smiled as he watched the expression on Wedge's face change from bored and a little depressed, to happy, and then to slightly annoyed.

"Boy band?" Wedge questioned the text in the magazine. "We're not..."

He screwed up his face, and closed the book angrily.

"Well..." Biggs began, trying to choose his words carefully. "When Watts is singing we don't sound nearly as heavy."

"Yeah," Wedge muttered, "but we're not a boy band."

Biggs chuckled. For an instant, Wedge hated him for it.

"Hey," Biggs said, reaching across the table and placing a friendly hand on Wedge's shoulder. "At least they liked us."

-(-0-)-

Two days later, Yes Sir had finished recording their first single. Most of the band members had it reasonably easy, but Watts had been in the booth singing for so long that Wedge was afraid he would loose his voice.

He had been going for almost five hours straight now, and showed absolutely no sign of loosing any strength of voice. Wedge, for one, was impressed.

Teniki apparently had no mercy, however, and kept Watts going until he had recorded every single line perfectly.

Tavis sat next to the recordist and sound editor through the whole process, asking them questions, and making suggestions. Wedge thought that after several hours of this, the two men would have been completely frustrated with Tavis's ceaseless chattering. There was just something about the ex-Private however, that made it impossible to deny him anything. Maybe it was because he was just so damn likable, or maybe it was because Tavis gave you the distinct feeling that telling him to go away would be very much on a par with kicking the cute little puppy that played near your feet.

It was almost seven at night when Teniki finally annouced that the recording process was over.

"Well," Teniki said, the cheery tone of her voice lulling Yes Sir into what Wedge couldn't help but suspect was going to prove to be a false sense of security. "You know your solo performance at the Royal tomorrow; it seems that all the little bits of publicity you've been receiving are making people curious. Your fanbase is definitely growing; you've almost sold out the venue."

Any tension left over in the room disappeared entirely with this news. The five band members took the opportunity to share small congratulations and exclamations of delight with one another.

"And..." Teniki continued.

The five men all turned to face her, all of them unable to wipe the smiles from their faces. Teniki stayed silent for a few more seconds, apparently relishing in stretching out the dramatic tension of the situation for far longer than was necessary.

"We still don't have any more songs," Teniki finished, staring directly at Wedge as she did so. "How is that going Wedge? You can't be a cover band forever."

Wedge had never felt so insignificant as he did right then under the pressure of Teniki's gaze. It was debilitating, that gaze; it not only told you that you better do what the owner of that gaze said; it also let you know that if you didn't comply then you were going to live just long enough to wish that the owner of the gaze had actually, instead, opted out for mercy and simply killed you right there on the spot.

Wedge wished that he had something to hide behind.

"I haven't really..." Wedge found himself trailing off.

"What was that Wedge?" Teniki asked, folding her arms and glaring at the guitarist. "Kinda didn't catch it."

"I haven't finished any new songs yet," Wedge concluded.

Zone and Watts came to the rather cowardly yet wonderfully safe conclusion that they didn't need to be there for the rest of the conversation, and took that opportunity to disappear out the nearest exit.

"And why not?" Teniki asked.

Wedge felt like he was being interrogated.

"I've tried," Wedge told her. "I really have. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know," Wedge concluded. "I suppose I'm lacking inspiration."

Teniki sighed and shook her head. She glanced over at Wedge with a look that, under different circumstances, Wedge might have interpreted as being pity. She then glanced over at Biggs, who was standing just a little behind and to the side of the guitarist, doing his best to pretend that he wasn't there, before returning her gaze to Wedge once more.

"Then find it," she told Wedge, before grabbing her briefcase and leaving the room.

Wedge watched her leave for a few seconds, before folding his arms and frowning. He looked over at Tavis, who was currently in the middle of an intense discussion with the editor, and then at Biggs.

"Just find inspiration huh?" Wedge sighed. "What the hell is she talking about?"

"Stuffed if I know," Biggs answered. "You're the lyricist here, not me."

"You can't just 'find it'," Wedge continued, trying not to sound too annoyed with their manager's instructions. "It just happens. It's not..."

Biggs offered Wedge the best half-smile he could summon, before opening the door to the studio and gesturing for Wedge to follow him out.

"Don't worry about it too much," Biggs told his friend. "I'm sure it'll happen eventually."

"Yeah," Wedge sighed. "Eventually. Problem is, I have a deadline."

Biggs offered Wedge another half-smile, and for a second he reached out, almost as though to comfort Wedge in some way, but he pulled his hand back at the last second. Wedge contemplated asking Biggs about it, and maybe any other time he would have, but in his current state of mind, he chose instead to ignore it, and think on more important things, such as how to find inspiration.

"This," Wedge muttered as the door swung shut behind him, "is not what I had in mind when I dreamed of becoming a rock star.

-(-0-)-

This was life. The roar of the crowd. The glimmer of the spotlights as it passed over the band. The knowledge that hundreds of people were having the time of their lives and it was all because of them. This was why Wedge had always wanted to become a rock star.

Beside him on stage Watts finished the second chorus of 'Going Down' finishing with a kind of flourish to his movements that had not been there a couple of weeks ago. Watts was taking to performing like a fish to water, and they loved him for it.

Wedge broke into the guitar solo, his fingers now moving almost automatically over the strings. A spotlight washed over him and he heard the crowd cheer; only vaguely connecting the sound with his own performance. He really didn't need to concentrate to play this part any more; he had already played it far too many times to be able to count, but every time he found himself caught up in the moment, unable to think about anything but here, and now, and the song that he kept forgetting he himself had written.

The solo finished, and Watts broke into the final chorus, making the crowd scream even louder than it had before. Wedge glanced up to see Watts standing at the front of the stage, bathed in the glow from the various spotlights, and felt his stomach do a back-flip at the sight.

This was way too familiar. He almost fumbled over the strings, but caught himself in time.

He chanced another look at Yes Sir's front man, and then down at himself; at his hands, the guitar, and the clothing, and found himself more scared than he had ever been before.

This was exactly what he had seen during the incident after he and Biggs had attempted to escape from the Lunatic Pandora.

Luckily, this was the last song of the set, and as the cheering wound down, Wedge was free to walk off the stage. He had never been so grateful to be able to take the guitar off and give it to the nearest stagehand.

He tried to shake off the feeling that had possessed him while on stage, but could not deny it. De-ja-vu had always struck him at the strangest times, but this was much worse than anything he had ever felt before, mainly because he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't de-ja-vu.

He had lived through those moments before; had looked forward and seen the lights framing Watts's head like a halo. He was sure of it. Of course, if that vision was true, did it mean that the others were as well?

The memory of skin on skin came to Wedge in a flash, and he found himself blushing.


End file.
